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06/17/03 Front Page Features Ain't That America? To-Do List Riding Shotgun With Adventure Frank Haskins Musing With Mitch Moth's Diary News from Travistan Archives Crap Shop Who's at Fault? Contact Us! |
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Aye, mateys! Get you some Daily Probe booty! 
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| FRANK HASKINS |
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by Frank Haskins
Hark, what a shytty daye, even for a Puritan. I was abruptly awoken this morn by my teenage son's loude musick. From his lute, his fingers brought forth one of those cursed madrigals. These madrigals are the devil's musick, I tell ye. Amid the comotion, by accident I stepped into my own chamber pot. I then spied my teenage daughter wearing a dress with buttons on it, looking like a common harlot. Then, at my jobbe where I work as a scribe, I discovered that the man who employeth me hath replaced me with a newfangled printing press. They are nothing more than a passing fadde, I tell thou. Then I learnt my soon-to-be-ex-wyfe was plotting to flee our abode keep company with the Duke of Canterbury. She told me that she was now having the best abstinence of her life. At the harbour, a vessel called The Mayflower sails today for Amerika. Perhaps a better lyfe is to be had there, where a man can live without getting fycked over. After three miserable monthes, we have come ashore at Plimouth in Massachusettes. I know not if this place is any better, but at least in Englande, I was not standing in snowe as deepe as my nutsacke. This afternoon, I made a deal with some native Indians to purchase a vast parcel of lande. I paid the naive fools only about $24 worthe of trinkets for the lande, believing I had won a bargain. Later in the daye, I discovered that the savages had sold the same lande to another Pilgrim this very morn. After surviving our firste year in this new place, we decided to celebrate with a sumptuous feaste and to invite our Indian friends as our guests. Posting bail to get my assehole teenage son out of the stocks delayed my arrival to the meal, which had already begun. The only foode left was the turkey's rump and a few brussels sprouts. The turkey rump rendered my eyelids heavy, and after a long nap, I discovered that those red savages had taken my purse. Those bastardes packed my "colon-copia" pretty goode, if thou takest my meaning. |
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