Now, right about now, you're probably wondering why I'm living in a refrigerator crate. Well, my wife Mary, she don't understand me none too well. What's there to understand about an overweight, bald headed, middle-aged, minimally successful businessman who spends 22 hours a day or more searching for his youth through a rich, virginal cheerleader who's willing to finance my grand tourist trap scheme: The Best Little Whorehouse in North Carolina! Well, actually, it won't be no whorehouse- More like it'll be…
Well, ya'll ever heard of that Coral City that that guy done built down in Florida in the 20's and 30's? Well, that's what my place will be like, only it'll be built entirely of pallettes (I sell skids for a living). The Best Little Whorehouse name… that was my idea (~~blushing~~). I thought that would attract them there families tired of seeing the world's biggest ball of twine and the house of mud and tired tourist trap crap like that. But ain't no one smart enough to've built a House of Skids!
So, that's it, in a nutshell. My wife, who keeps spouting some such nonsense about Louis Lent and pedophilia and how she shoulda listened to her mother, threw me outta the house and here I am in this Amana crate.
It ain't so bad, really. I fixed the place up with some old Olsen Twins and Britney Spears posters and when spring comes the moss will grow under me and form a nice, lush green carpet.
Anyway, if ya'll wanna learn more about me, come on over the Freetown's Booth 6969 and look for me. I'm usually in 22 hours a day, seven days a week searching for rich, virginal cheerleaders who'll help me finance my brilliant schemes that also involve a night club (ladies night will admit anyone under 12 free, two soda pop minimum), and some sketchy idea involving a D7 Caterpillar and about 100,004 gallons o' lime Jello.
What ya'll see below are some links to my favorite websites, where I meet all sorts of exciting young people:
These nice folks onced put my pitcher up with eight or nine other guys, obviously to help advertize my growing City of Pallettes. They even come knocking on my trailer home door once and looked through my hard drive.
Parody of THE WILD WILD WEST song.