What I've really been up to.

Gang,

I'm not blogged out. That was just a cover, but I can no longer keep the truth from you, my faithful blogging friends. Honestly, who could ever be blogged out? So here comes the truth:

I’ve been out for a while and I know that my faithful fans have waited patiently, but this Greg guy keeps harassing me. I hope it’s not Greg Piper. That guy’s a total douche bag. Did you read what he wrote in the Foul-con? Fat people can love Jesus too, in fact, you know the "light at the end of the tunnel?" That light is the Kripsy Kreme Hot Light. In Heaven, there are dozens of doughnuts. The doughnuts number 12 by 12 by 12 dozen. The hot light is always on in Heaven, so I say, run towards the light!

Anyway, this is the true account of my absence. I'm not going to lie to you. I know a lot of you think that I have been in Europe. Every year “the man” tells you that I go on a “tour of Europe.” In reality, I’ve been in the Betty Ford clinic. But this year I busted out.

Trixie and I busted out a few days ago. Here’s the story:

Now, I thought I was escaping with the missus, but I was pretty hopped up at the time of escape because how else am I going to break the glass with my bare hand and not wail in pain and give us away? Really.

The missus is an addict as well. She’s addicted to yours truly. She’s not a druggie, she’s a "Philly."

Trixie and I escaped to Camp Casey. Unfortunately, Trixie is short for Trxianya and she turned out to be the number one left over spy from the Cold War Era. She was using the clinic as a front. So now we had the CIA on our tail.

Camp Casey was alright, but for some reason Ed Smyth was there practicing his classic get-ready-for-the-real-world speech for the upcoming leadership retreat.

Now folks, I know I’ve only been here ten years and I often use brandy flavored dipping sauce to escape reality, but Smyth has been around SPU since the 70s. Who is this guy to talk about living in the real-world?

The CIA caught up with us the next day, but luckily I had got in touch with my guiding spirit (Ponch from CHiPs) and he advised us to hide out in the barracks.

Folks, Ponch blows! The CIA totally found us and shot up the place and arrested Trixie. On the plus side the Barracks and pretty much all the wildlife preserve were destroyed in the invasion. Now I can build by deluxe world-class beach front resort. Maybe the Ponch-ster was right after all.

I was sent back to the Clinic and now the missus is hopped up on big-ole me again. Damn Nurse Ratched keeps her away from me. Yet another reason we gotta bust before school starts and the seniors start partying in the Fortress of Solitude like US Soldiers in Saddam’s Palaces. I’m made some friends here and they’re gonna help me bust outta here… For a Price. So just to warn you all when you come back, the new dean of student life might be Randall Patrick McMurphy or Chief Bromden.

I gotta go, the activities director is showing Home Alone in the recreation room, and I am always in the mood for a Christmas movie and I’m glad it is not the sequel.

Pzeace,
Phil

P.S. Look out for falling drinking fountains.

The pressure! THE PRESSURE!

Hey peeps, it's your resident president Phil again. Sorry I haven't posted much. Just the pressure of someone as important and famous as me, keeping up with readers one-to-one on this blog, instead of writing articles for the Seattle Times or doing my column in Response. I think the leeches at the CCCU are trying to knock me out of influence with them. The nerve!

Me and the Mrs. are doing fine in the Fortress, although Plant hasn't mowed my lawn in a week and a half and the sucker is growing way fast.