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Venezuela 1
This is really awesome!
Did someone in Venezuela actually intend to find El Pinche Pirata del Fuego!?!
Were they searching for something else and stumble upon yours truly by accident?
We may never know.
But what we do know is this:
People around the world are in love with EPPdF!
It's clear to me, faithful readers, that you worship me and hang upon my every word.
It's all right there in black and white Google analytics.
You like me.
Don't be coy.
It's ok to admit it.
I know it's difficult to say it publicly. (particularly difficult for certain family members)
(ahem *cough*elduece*coughwheeze)
But, you like me.
You really like me.
Well, my friends;
I agree.
(click here; then come back and read)
Your faith is not misplaced.
I am here to entertain and amuse.
To enlighten and embolden.
To enliven and to endeavor to enrage.
Your vicarious wishes are mine.
Your peeping-Tom dreams; they belong to me.
Your cries for freedom, for liberty, for a decent second pour:
They all live inside my head.
I hear you, my friends.
The tumultuous cry of a thousand voices rings in my mind.
I am lead by an indescribable desire, nay hunger, nay thirst, to live your deepest dreams and your darkest wishes.
To live the life that you cannot yet but dare to dream and to wish, even in those darkest, most private moments, when you find yourself cowering under the covers of your two and half star, off-season hotel, somewhere near the Gulf of Mexico, where you've gone with your slightly overweight second wife, on a long weekend "vacation" with the step-kids who don't really care one way or the other about you and yet, EVEN THEN, I can hear your cries.
I hear you, my friends.
And I will not stop.
I will not give in.
I will never surrender.
I will not give up the dream of Los Piratas everywhere, of living the good life while others toil and bend for my benefit and pleasure.
While others labor away their lives, whether in cubicles or quagmires, I will continue not working for as long as I shall draw breathe!
Never has one man worked so hard to avoid work at all costs, than I am endeavoring to not work right now, at this very instant.
And that voice of reason? Of logic? That righteous din of indignation that screams, "Get back to work you a$$hole!"
"NO!", I say.
I shall continue not working.
I shall soldier on (ducking and dodging gainful employment).
It is for you, that this mighty voyage, this beautiful vision, this unlaundered labor of love must be continued.
Though I have suffered the pains of up-chucking Peyote Tea in the mountains of Arizona while rabid, attack tarantulas circled my weakened body;
Though I have been ravaged by wind, and rain, and the un-holy heat of west Texas;
Though I've been forced to sleep on couches and borrowed beds; in less than 4 star hotels; and even in a lawn chair perched somewhere in the Sierra Madras while I watched the shadows grow legs and waltz across my very person;
Though I have been verbally attacked, NAY ASSAULTED, by the villain, "El Duece", (Boo!Hiss!), I am committed to being the kind of man that you have prayed for;
whispered prayers into dirty, clenched fists during Easter Sunday Mass.
Your prayers have been heard, my friends.
EPPdF is here to make it all better.
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