Saturday, June 04, 2005

Aquaman says, "KISS off!"

The other day I got an email in my Yahoo! account, I'll let you read it.

Dear Douchebag,

Ever since my trial, I've been trying to prove to the surface world that I'm a nice guy. I really am, I don't know why they fuck none of you shitsmellers will believe me. In any event, to prove that I'm a good guy, I want to tell your reader (or is it readers? I forget. Ha, just joking.) about the normal things I do. Let me do it, or I will smash your house boat. And if you don't have one, I'll buy you one, wait until you get settled on it and the smash the crap out of it.


With the letter, I guess I have no choice but to let the Crowned Price of the Deep have his say.

Hi everyone, it's me, your old buddy Aquaman here, sitting in my deep sea lair writing about the coolest night I've ever had. Aqualad and I (see our pictures above this paragraph!) were able to get two tickets to the greatest rock concert ever ... KISS! Yes, THE Kiss. Gene Simmons, Paul Stanley, Peter Criss and Ace Frehley (sort of) all live and in person on stage in front of us.

I had Aqualad wait in line for three days, even though he didn't have to camp out I thought that he should, it will teach the boy persistence and he picked up the duckets. Two sweet seats, sort of far back, but close enough so that we can hear the best band ever.

Check out this pic I nabbed with my camera, Paul (who is my favorite) is poutingly telling us that we drive him wild, but he drives us crazy! LOL!

Anyway the day of the concert, Aqualad and I jumped on our seahorses, filled up the cooler with Zimas for AL and fuzzy navel ingredients for me and made our way to the fair grounds. Luckily, it was near an inlet, so we can hitch up our horses and then start tailgating.

Aqualad is a puss and doesn't really keep up with Kiss that much, so he was mad when I told him that Mark St. John or Bruce Kulick weren't going to be there. I also told him that his Vinnie Vincent makeup that he painted on his face is going to look a little stupid since he was fired from the band 20 years ago. "Well, I hope that they play something from 'Crazy Nights' or 'Hot in the Shade'," he said. I just had to laugh, because I knew he was going to die, (when he figured out that they won't be playing anything from those albums).

After the four-hour ride--honestly the Aquascooter would've been better for this 2 mile trek--we were ready for some frosty beverages. We picked a spot next to two hot chicks and Aqualad mixed my drink while I stepped to two gals.

"Ladies," I said, by the way, I was wearing Paul Stanley makeup, so I knew I had a good shot to get some trim. "The Starchild is here!"

They probably didn't realize that I was a SuperFriend because they just looked at me and laughed. "Paul Stanley is a fag," one of them said after blowing smoke from a Marlboro Red in my face. "And you better get out of here before our boyfriends come back from the Portapotty. They'll kick your ass just for looking at us."

"Baby, aren't you feeling good? Because baby I am feeling NICE," I said hoping that quoting a key KISS lyric would get them in the mood. "My friend here has just finished making me a strong Fuzzy Navel and he has a few Zimas if you all care to par-tay."

For some reason, this made the big-haired, acid washed jeans ladies of the night laugh even more. "Fuzzy navels? Zimas? I ain't had that shit since 'Smashes, Thrashes and Hits' came out. You really must be gay," said the blonde one as she flung a lit cigarette at me.

Luckily for her, I had just poured four Fuzzy Navels into my KISS beer bong as she did this, and was able to deftly avoid it. Despite some interference, the old AM is still able to pound the booze.

"You are obviously whores and the StarChild and the Wizard (as Vinnie Vincent was called) will not be quaffing libations with you pasty faced bitches," I said.

All of a sudden I felt a large hand on my shoulder, their boyfriends had returned in time to hear my slanderous putdown. "Who you calling a bitch, bitch?"

Remembering that I had to be nice, I tried to talk my way out of this mess.

"Sorry, did I say bitch? I meant slut. Look at them, one of them has never seen a Twinkee that she hasn't liked and the other thinks that 1989 never ended. You and your Old Milwaukee drinking, pork rind eating, no deodorant using friend have made poor choices in finding a mate. Now good day, Sir."

I felt a blow to the back of my head.

Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the four fuzzy navels that I funneled, maybe it was really nothing, but in any event I turned around and cold-cocked the fucker. BAM! Blood and snot went everywhere, the guy even fell out of his wheelchair.

Aqualad was in shock and sort of stood there, but no matter, I climbed over the wheelchair and went for his buddy, who was trying to hobble his way into the car. Too bad crutches make for poor instruments of retreat. I grabbed one of the crutches and smashed him on the back of the head, "How do you like that, bitch? Huh? You like that?" I kept hitting him.

The girls were running and screaming, "Call the cops! Call my parents! Call the home!"

Call my parents? These douchewhistles weren't so tough when the chips were down, were they? After the crutch-bound jerkface was down, I picked up both of his walking instruments and threw them at their women, nailing each of them square in the back. Both went down, one crushed her callostamy bag, the other's back brace slammed into the back of her head. Two birds, two stones, how's that for awesomeness?

"See that twats," I asked. "All you have to do is be nice. We're at a KISS concert, everyone should be nice, but noooooooooo, you had to be bitches. Well, you plant sea cucumbers, you get sea cucumbers."

At this point, a large crowd of people had gathered, they were horrified by what happened. I turned to Aqualad, "Make me another drink and lets go in. The show's about to start."

We downed a few more drinks and walked into the concert. I don't remember too much about but during, "King of the Nightime World" a battalion of the cops came to our section and grabbed two guys dressed as Vinnie Vincent and Paul Stanley. As they were beating them about the heads with batons, one shrieked, "What did we do?"

The cop answered, "You murdered four retards and we have the witnesses to prove it. You're going away for a long time!"

See that? That's karma my friends, I tried to be nice and something nice happened to me. Aquaman out!

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