2001-10-03 - 12:00 a.m.

A few weeks ago, when I was a moonshiner, I employed illegal immigrants to help me. At first it was a good idea, but then they started drinking all of the whiskey that we made. I was okay with that for a while, until one day when I walked into the distillery and saw something that disturbed me greatly.

I flipped on the light to see young Nacho drowned in the kiddie-pool full of whiskey. I couldn't believe it. He must've gotten drunk and slipped, I thought. Perhaps old man Burt Rito could have pushed him in. Or maybe, Faye Heeta, his wife had been adulterous with Todd Keeto and hired Jimmy Changa to murder him. I never found out the truth.

Well, to make a long story short I was forced to bury the body outside a nearby fast food chain, to avoid a lawsuit. I also lost a good deal of money on that transaction. I'm glad I got out of the moonshine business.

By the way, I removed the old broken voice mail link (the "Sex" image), and replaced it with a new link that is about as close to an About Me page as you're going to get from my lazy sexhero ass.

Canadian Mode