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Some
groin-seeking yellow gopher or something launches
itself at resident embarrassment Jack Delasonia.
The gopher was soon followed by my boot and a
series of blows from a bowling pin to his skull.
This picture wasn't taken at the South Appleton
Bowlery-o-rama, but it was after I wandered into
there (just a LITTLE tipsy but not drunk) and
passed out on the 11th lane. The manager, who
was 14 feet tall if I remember right, told me
to leave so I stabbed him in the leg with my car
keys and took a bowling pin and ran off and tipped
over the prize machine that was rigged so you
never get the expensive Rolex watch in the back.
Then I wandered into some fruity disco dance place
and I saw Jack there and thought he was his brother,
Frank Delasonia, who owes me $50 from the time
he bet me $50 that I couldn't drive my car through
his neighbor's backyard without smearing his pussfilled
wife across my windshield. Well who's the winner
now, you Romanian bastard? Oh wait, shit, I guess
I actually lost that bet.
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