Goddamn giant monkey puss balls.

I’ve been tagged!

No, not That kind.

This kind:

I hate little tagging bastards even worse than Evil Spam Lords.
Because all you have to do to get rid of spam from your inbox is hit Delete.

With tags you have to break out the turps and scrub.

Or, as was the case, scrub and then discover that the little feckers have used a solvent-resistant spray paint, in which case you then have to repaint the whole fence. And the nearby powerpole that they decided to leave their name-piss scent on.

I have some underworld contacts making some inquiries into the tags left on my property. I want to track the author(s) down.

Then I’m going to wait till they grow up and move into a house of their very own and then I’m going to break into that house and have my Helper Monkey take a dump in every corner of their house. And their shoes.

Because the D-Man proudly puts the "over" in "reaction".

A while ago Sommer tagged me to do a simple meme.

Five Little Known Facts About D-Man

1. Today, among a pile of CDs I bought, was the Bee Gees Greatest Hits. As much as it shames me to admit it, I actually like the Bee Gees. Mostly their earlier stuff.
2. One of the lamest moments of my life was when I went over to a friend’s house for dinner and they had a Bee Gees In Concert DVD and we stood there in front of the TV watching the whole thing, singing along, pretending we were actually at the concert.
3. I enjoyed it.
4. When I was at high school, I used to tag Ninja across desks. My younger brother got blamed in the end. Cos I’d tagged one his folders as well. Ha-Ha. Haaa.
5. I hate hypocrisy.

Small improvements on the D-Sease front:

I can raise my right eyebrow ever so slightly.
I can raise the right side of my lip ever so slightly.

Small,
Slight,
But significant.