|Ain't She a Beaut?|
So there I was, roaming Walmart with my wife when the text message came through. New Hard-Core draft, being organized by Hard Corn Porn legend Dirty Dave Storms!!! Register now or go limp forever.
I've been waiting for an opportunity like this my entire life. Slop Knob with a celebrity and slowly rise to fame.
I clicked on the link without asking any questions and quickly threw the entry fee into my League Safe account, pulling it out of my child's college savings account.
Before I even went through the motions, I knew that this was going to be a sin I was going to have to atone for in the very near future. But, Fuck it, greatness awaits.
After two months of tough negotiations and trying to find the Scum of the Earth, Dirty Dave succeeds in forming a complete league and the draft begins.
There is lots of wheeling and dealing and tough decisions. I often visited my local homeless shelters and hospice centers to get advice from people who have had a tough life because we all know the harder your life the better your decision-making process.
The homeless guys would give me advice for food. Or Weed. Or Beer. Or Liquor. Or a Handy. They weren't really picky, they just wanted something in return.
As for the hospice, I made sure to hit up the dementia ward so that they wouldn't want anything in return (except some nice old-fashioned companionship) and if they did want something they didn't remember it by the next time I arrived.
Mistakes were made.
The biggest mistake was having a joint bank account with my wife who saw the payment to the league and where the money came from.
Then telling her "Look bitch, I'm an adult and I can do whatever the fuck I want!"
Things I learned in June:
1 - Don't mess with a Mexican woman who has a big family.
2 - She can have the locks changed in the entire house pretty damn quickly
3 - It is possible for someone to freeze you out of a bank account with your name on it.
That's how I ended up living out of my Toyota Corolla with only the money in my wallet and the clothes on my back. But, with the right attitude I set out to who-knows-where not knowing how I was going to survive long enough to win this league, gain huge profits and convince my wife to take me back.
I consider my state of joblessness more of an early retirement or a long, overdue, vacation than I consider it being homeless. It makes me feel better to look at it in a more positive light so I don't accidentally get too depressed and Kurt Ka-Bang myself (As if I had the ability to seduce Courtney Love, marry her and have her off a 2nd husband while making it appear like a suicide.)
The reason why I have decided to start this journal (it's not a diary asshole) and start it now is two-fold. I have a LOT of free time on my hands. Like a-lot a lot.
I was finally able to barter my way into this Chromebook that I am typing on. I thought about using my phone but I don't want to develop carpal tunnel. We're not going to discuss what was actually bartered and how I found out that Rock-Bottom has more than just one layer. I've cried a lot since then.
Now you're caught up.
I'm sitting here at a McDonalds inside of a Walmart in order to get their free Wi-Fi so I can connect to the internet and see if anyone sent me any trades: Spoiler-Alert, they did not.
I'm currently in Las Vegas trying to get enough money to put gas in my car to head down to Texas where my first opponent resides (you know, provided he actually gave the right information and isn't a lying bastard).
I'm winning this league - by hook or by crook. I desperately need the money.
If I don't feel like my team can pull off a clean victory then I'm willing to make things happen, if you know what I mean.