T.P. in the hizzy. Just wanted to let y'all know that plans for my D.C. Man-Cave are well underway. I don't want to say too much since My Hotter Half keeps telling me that, technically, she doesn't have the gig just yet (wink) but keep in mind that she's the same one who told me that teaching abstinence was the best way to keep from becoming Grampy Todd.
Grampy Todd says, "Whatevs."
Here's a taste of what will be in store when you come on down to D.C. to hang:
- Fully stocked wet bar (obviously) w/ Midnight Sun Panty Peeler on tap.
- Firing range w/ a bunch of weapons the Pentagon developed but couldn't release because they're too off the hook.
- Pool table, air hockey table, and 2 Chexx tables (US v. Russia AND Canada).
- Drive-thru humidor.
- Wii, PS3, Sega Genesis, and Super Nintendo (because even though my bride will be running the country, NHL 93 and Tecmo Bowl STILL reign supreme).
- Multiple 80-inch flat screens (3 w/ Slap Shot on continuous loop).
- Six-foot bong (the one Willie Nelson gave Clinton in '93).
- 24-7 nacho chef.
Annnnnd (drumroll please) my very own red phone manned at all times by Jerky Boy Johnny Brennan. I think you can see where I'm going with this one ... "Hey, Putin, listen up, sizzle-chest!!" ... It's gonna be awesome.
Also, there'll be a crash pad if guys need to sleep one off before heading out to the indoor snowmobile track. Don't be surprised if Wurzelbacher's already in there, though. While Joe may be an unlicensed plumber, Lady Sarah tells me he's a fully accredited party-beast!!
As for those of you worried about The Cave having a bit of the "old man musk" about it, not to worry ... Papa John will have an open invitation, but I don't expect he'll be down much. He tends to pack it in right after Jeopardy — dude's older than Wasilla. (Not really, but he ain't too far off.)
Anyway, that's the word from here. See you in D.C., bitches!! Get ready to tear it up, First Dude style!!
Word,
T.P.EM
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