Even the poor coed chained to a radiator in my basement needs to be fed once in a while, right?
Greeting to my minions. I am Artie Lange and this is my blog. For certain I have neglected this site, starving it of the intellectual nourishment and comic quenching that only I can provide, but who can blame me? On Facebook my following is deep and dependable, on Twitter I have twenty-thousand fans, and on Blogger what do I have? Hope that Pistols at Dawn will remember me and give me access to his glorious bog (if it is even there).
So what has been keeping Artie busy over the last few years? I don't really know. I continue to age, widen, and shift hair from my head to my back. I have eroded my brand to the point that BP takes pity on me (that's actor Bill Paxton, who is a real dick and may have even raped me on the set of Spy Kids 3. I say "may" because I can't remember if he or I was the aggressor).
So what should we talk about? I don't know. Does it even really matter? My investments in the pay phone industry have not succeeded as I would have hoped, but I think I will rebound thanks to my purchase of a truckload of Kodak 35mm film, which I will sell at the Englishtown Auction this weekend.
Alas, all my other blogging buddies are gone. Dead (to me), but I persevere. I am a survivor. I thank you for visiting, for your comments, for your offer of oral sex.
Artie has to go now. I have things to do (really).
2 comments:
this makes me realize that I have to shit very soon.
and throw up!
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