Saturday Afternoon

Saturday afternoon I decide to go up to my private roofdeck to relax. It's the weekend, so I'm starting out the day with a liquid lunch. Brought up one of my favorite short story collections. Hey, who's this? Hey, what's up! I say. But the little guy doesn't even say anything, he just goes straight for my flask. I try to kid around a little like, Save a little for me. This guy can't weight more than 3 ounces and I'm packing 80 proof. Uh oh I guess sometimes I forget that not everybody can handle their Jameson the way I can From now on I'm hiding my booze in an iced tea can.

My Trip to Florida

[Archived from 2007]

Lori and I went down to Florida last week.







We met up with her family and stayed on a remote little island.





The weather was really pretty. I spent a lot of time on the beach.








Yes, I hung out in a handbag. Whatever, I didn't want to get my fur all sandy.








Anyways we hung out with her family a little bit. We belatedly celebrated her birthday and ate cake which was delicious.







I hung out with her brother for the first time. He's a cool dude. We went to the playground and played on the slides a lot.







But mostly I got a lot of relaxing alone-time in, hanging out on the balcony, drinking champagne, reading up on "Florida."







Late in the afternoon I would wait and watch for sunset from the balcony and looked at the pro-NRA bumper stickers on cars that went by.







I can't tell how well the locals will like me since I am anti-firearm and vegan and also from a different planet or whatever, so I don't really introduce myself around.








So this one day, yeah.










I mean I'm used to people intruding upon my personal space, look how many times David would interrupt me from studying the classics to make me drink whiskey with him or Michael would drag me out of bed to listen to him practice the flute. But this is like, what's up dude. I don't know you and you're on my private balcony.








He's chill, he's eating a banana or whatever.









I don't want to start trouble or anything so I try to be friendly. I'm all, Hey what's up? Do you live nearby? This is my first time in Florida. Are you from here? I'm from Kashyyk.








I guess he's the silent type.











Next I hear this grunting sound from my right. What do you know, here comes another one.










Hey guys how's it going.







Okay fine you can have some of my champagne.







Then here comes this giant pineapple. Okay, time to go back to New York.

Dr. Rockenstein and the Carriage House Bloodbath

[Archived from 2006]

Saturday night we throw a party at the Carnage House. After smearing blood on mirrors, stringing cobwebs from the ceiling, inscribing pentagrams on the floor and hanging autopsy photos all 'round the walls, we don our costumes. I'm going as Chewcifer, obviously.








It's kind of an excuse to woo the ladies, particularly Swiss Miss Shannon,






And Typhoid Lori.







But my efforts are foiled as, in the next room, Michael is undergoing a transformation from bookish librarian to Dr. Rockenstein,







with a Swiss Miss on his lap and Typhoid Lori doing his makeup.







Where Librarian Michael is laid-back and affable, Dr. Rockenstein is, apparently, a sex magnet.







He seduces ladies







And men alike.






Guests, when they arrive, swoon.







Dr. Rockenstein is unfazed.







Later The Above plays a set.



















I manage to steal a kiss from Swiss Miss Shannon,







And dance with her during one of the songs.







After the set, Norwegian Jesus ravages Dr. Rockenstein,







Takes offense when Rockenstein instead snuggles Typhoid Lori,







and tries to smother his rival with a set of sunglasses.







There's enough love to go around, guys! Dr. Rockenstein says, and everyone settles down.







At one point, Dr. Rockenstein is so hot that his face turns pink.







Just kidding! I did that in Photoshop.



The party's now slipping into the witching hour...







..and I am feeling attention starved.
So, working my diabolical magic, I manage to slip a pair of handcuffs on Dr. Rockenstein.







His many admirers try one-by-one to get them off. Norwegian Jesus,






Christopher,





Typhoid Lori,







All to no avail.







We're forced to amputate his arm.







Just kidding guys! Someone eventually found a set of keys.








Rockenstein will be fully "armed" as a ladykiller on Halloween. Librarians beware...







Happy Halloween.







<3 Chewcifer.