Space Monkeys!

Hey, folkens.

We return today with part one of a series about a beloved character (beloved by whom, you may ask? By me and PJ, that’s who.) that hasn’t been seen much around here, the Moon Weasel.

As is the case in most great literature (of which we are of course a part), those characters who have one obsessive vice, a fatal flaw, a… how you say… Achilles’s Angry Joint, tend to find themselves in a bad scrape at some point in their life. It’s that single-minded obsession, you see. It doesn’t do the body good.

PJ and I are indeed back from our one-week vacation, which wasn’t so much the kind of vacation where tropical drinks and sunscreen are involved, but more the kind of vacation where you lose sleep and cry to yourself softly over cold sandwiches about the things you didn’t give up doing that week. That’s adult responsibility for yo ass.

In other news, PJ’s birthday is coming up Saturday. It’s a big one. Let’s give him some advance love.