by Welcome Wagon Willy in space #38

I know everybody is just as grossed out as I am about Fatty Daddy getting his lights boinked out by them two old ladies up in space #40. I couldn't agree with you more. See, I wanted them to boink MY lights out.

It ain't fair. Do you have any idea how much money I blew on booze and cigarettes and flowers and trinkets, trying to get just one of them ladies to look at me? And I brung them ladies way better stuff than Fatty Daddy did, although I gotta admit the Russell Stover candies was a awful classy gift.

Nevertheless, no matter how hard I tried (and I tried HARD, dammit), no matter how much money I spent (and I had to haul a LOT of cans to the recycling machine) I didn't even get a second glance. Matter of fact, I spent the night locked up once when them ladies caught me peeping into their trailer and called the cops. But Fatty Daddy shows up, and them ladies is all over him like flies on shit. How come I ain't got charisma like that?

Another thing I can't figure out is the whipped cream. What the fuck was two old ladies doing with all that whipped cream in the first place? I mean, they must have had 50 pounds of it in there, and 50 pounds is a lot of whipped cream. I found empty whipped-cream tubs and spray-cans when I went dumpster-diving the next day, and they was tied in a trash bag with a bunch of mail addressed to Pearline and Earline. It ain't too hard to figure out what happened to all that whipped cream. And I wonder if they have any left.

I know Fatty Daddy is still holed up in space #40, and it's driving me nuts. Why won't he leave? He's already had his fun; Fatty Daddy ought to take off and give me another crack at them ladies, now that he's warmed 'em up for me -- hahaha. He shouldn't be hogging them all to hisself like that. It just ain't fair. What's he doing in there, anyways? It's pretty quiet next door, so he ain't boinking 'em.

What has Fatty Daddy got that I ain't got? I'm hung like a Clydesdale, so I know it ain't that. I bet it was the Russell Stover candies. Yep, that has to be it. But then again, maybe Fatty Daddy just has a kickass mojo with the ladies. Nah, that ain't it. It was probably the Russell Stover candies. I mean, you give a lady Russell Stover's and she knows you got some class.

Still, it's shit like this that makes me wonder if there really is a God. I mean, like a ever-loving God who would never pull a practical joke on you like dangle twin hotties in front of you, move 'em in right next door for God's sake, then let the guy you're in constant fierce competition with boink 'em. This thing has really got me confused about religion and God and whatnot.

I guess I'll just have to ask Jesus to help me sort it all out. He lives right up there in space #1. But first, I got to head over to space #54. Some old gray-haired bearded dude just moved in there, but I seen some gorgeous chick, too young to be his old lady, helping him move in. Betcha she's his daughter.

Well, it's time for me to go welcome the new resident to the trailer park. And I'll bring a box of Russell Stover's candies with me, just in case that chick shows back up.

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