2001-08-15 - 10:13 p.m.

I gave out the number for the direct Boi-oi-oing hotline nearly a week ago to a mysterious cross-eyed man living in my garage. He called me an hour later. It turns out he was a fearsome pirate captain in the late 15th Century. Apparently he had been having a real difficult time since his wife left him. I told him all about the time when I lost my fellatio machine. We shared a special bond for a moment. Then the conversation took a turn for the worst.

Captain Comanche Afrocake III: I think I'm going to jump off the second street bridge...

The Sexhero: Me too.

CCA III: Meet me there in one hour.

The Sexhero: ...

(It was about this time in the conversation that I regained my senses.)

The Sexhero: Okay, but I'm running a little behind with my internet diary. If I'm not there, start without me.

I haven't seen the captain since then. I hope he's alright.

Canadian Mode