Oh my God. You guys.
I've been wanting to blog for a while now. Seriously. But I couldn't.
I was kidnapped.
No, it's true. I was kidnapped. And I just got back, literally like just right now, so that I could write this. Seriously, I'm going to call the police and the FBI and everybody as soon as I'm done writing this.
So, my last post was March 15th about the Ides of March. And apparently, there's a group of terrorist secret cult people only in Europe, like from those Dan Brown movies, and apparently that song is like a huge piece of some super-secret that they've been keeping secretly for like two thousand years or something.
It's true. Benjamin Franklin and Charles Nelson Reilly were all part of the cult, so you know it's legit.
So, while I was on my way home from work the day that I posted that, this shadowy black van pulled up and they grabbed me and threw me in the back of the trunk and drugged me, and before I knew it we were on a boat crossing the Atlantic to their super-secret port in Switzerland - A LAND LOCKED COUNTRY, so that's how serious these guys are - and then they tied me up in a basement and forced me to tell the truth.
Which was, like, awful. Telling the truth all the time.
But finally I managed to escape because my two guards were Judge Reinhold and some lady I never saw before but was apparently in Supergirl, and I was able to seduce them with my eyebrow tricks (I can do tricks with my eyebrows, I swear. Ask me about it sometime, but not now I don't have time) and then they let me go.
Except, now I'm in Switzerland and I don't speak Swiss!
So I pretended like I was a travelling mime and made my way to France, where I managed to hop on a boat but then somehow I ended up off the coast of Libya and everything was exploding everywhere and the boat capsized so I swam all the way to Malta.
But once I got to the shores of Malta, there was this crazy old man that kept asking me a bunch of hard riddles, but I was able to answer them because they all somehow had something to do with my quest, and as a reward he gave me $794.07, which was precisely the price for a plane ticket direct from Malta to Chicago.
Except it was a Southwest fight - which I didn't even know Southwest flies outside of America, much less on Malta, but they do - and the plane cracked open and they had to land in Vermont, but I was able to find a canoe and paddle the whole way, by myself, along the St Lawrence seaway all the way though the Great Lakes, past Macinac Island (I did NOT stop for fudge) all the way down Lake Michigan, up the Chicago river and finally to here, where I am right now, typing this!
Except maybe I won't press charges, but I learned so much about myself during the journey that I'm almost happy it happened.
Yes, they are lessons I will remember for a long time, except I am now going to completely forget all of the details of my past near-month experiences, so if you ask me about them I might not remember them.
So yeah. That's where I've been.
Is it any coincidence St. Drunken looks kinda like you?
You mean the fact that he looks drunk? What are you suggesting, my good man?
"So I pretended like I was a travelling mime . . ."
I could tell you were lying right there. You hate the fine art of mime too much to ever even pretend to be a mime.
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
I never said I enjoyed it. Who knows what depths a man will sink to when stuck in France?!
I wouldn't press charges. Law enforcement can't call down any more thunder on Reilly et al than your blogging already has. Just glad you're okay, man.
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