Snowboarding Hustler

Good morning America and Greetings from Mitch your new contributing editor. Slave-drivers Turner and Phelps left the computer in the basement logged on the other day, so I haxxored my way into their interweb. Let me mention one thing first, if you are in Colorado Springs, could you please call 911 to 405 S Cascade Ave. They might have to use chainsaws to free me from the Turner|Phelps personal replica of Abu Ghraib. If you eventually see the pictures of me with the dog collar, you should know I wanted it that way. It's the only way to keep the fleas out of my hair. Some of the prison interns from Colorado College think I'm a fellow student on account of my smelly dreads and body odors, but I have to fling my feces at them so that they stop trying to give me herbal cigarettes. I ain't no hippy damn it.

Haha, just kidding, don't call the cops on 405 S Cascade. I think that's a strip club or a republican headquarters or something. Here's a taste of future topics I'll be covering:

* Reports from the Coalition of the Swilling, one revolutionary group driven to spike famous celebrities drinks with various psychosomatics and stimulants. You may have already seen Britney Spear's wigging out and marrying that turd Kevin Federpoop. That was them dude!
* Thoughts from a conservative college professor University of Colorado in Boulder, or, why don't any of these fly trick hoes want be turned out?
* Messages from Simon, a gang-banger with the mainframe shop down at the Hizzy to the Pizzy, the HP Infrastructure Lan Shop
* Mr. Etiquette's guide to dealing with post-election stress, including such ideas as, putting vodka in the coffee pot at AA meetings, hooking up with the chicks at the girl's home for eating disorders, and my personal favorite, dropping off letters to Miss Abby into the drop box at your local church.
* One French native man's quest to educate his peers on the traveste du le nomme de rigeur du pommes du frites. Cette Freedome Fries, Sacre Bleu!

Watashi wa biatches!