"it aint no man out there, we all gonna die"

It seems that a predator like creature has been sweeping the Hawley office and giving a few unlucky hosts a chest dwelling parasite that mimics flu symptoms. We cannot be sure what planet it is from, but it is here now and not even Troy, with his skills in battling Cajun witch doctors and Avon representatives, can escape the biological massacre that is to come......unless.....a soldier of steroid induced proportions comes to save the day.

Now I know what you are thinking....but unfortunately Brantley swore to never go to battle again since he threw out his shoulder during the battle at Thermopylae. Nigh, it is the great Jose "Mister Fish" Texidor and his trusty Vassago racing snail that shall overcome against our alien parasite's tyrannical rule.


Whatever this creature is after is unsure. They may simply be merchants of pain and the Blog was the highest bidder. Upon hearing of his weakened condition, I loaded up my goat cart and made the .15 mile journey over to his house in the Waccamaw Ave Shire. It was a gruesome sight. His eldest and wisest cat let me in and warned me of his condition over a warm cup of cat-nip tea, but I was still not prepared for what I saw................He was truly inconsolable. .......

When the music finally stopped, we talked. We talked about many important things. for I knew this may be the last conversation we may ever have in this earthly realm. We started with the important stuff, like ingredients in Zax Sauce and the use of downhill platform pedals on a road bike and the obvious advantages. As his mind slowly deteriorated, he began to spew out ridiculous concepts, like Andy and his advanced sense of fashion and how sweet and youthful Brantley was. I held his hand in pity. Such a great mind is gone. We shall miss you great blog, you are a true hero to all eastern European collectors of camo 3/4 length pants and neon Saucony-like shoes.......Goodbye ole' friend........see you at work tomorrow.