Communiques de Deuce, de b. Lee

So this weekend your favorite absentee blogger and myself will be convening for an emergency blog meeting over in Gotham. Why, you ask? Because this shit needs to get going and the sorry ass efforts of my co-conspirators just ain't cutting it right now.

That...

Or THIS.

Anyway, here's a snapshot of Deuce and I trying to coordinate our travel plans, which should also serve as a sneak preview of what the weekend's discourse will be like as well.


Deuce (7:19 PM): What time you fagwhores arrive on Thursday?


b. Lee (7:27 PM): 9:30. Checking a bag, so won't be good to go until closer to 10. We jumping a train or catching a ride?


Deuce (7:28 PM): That's why I asked. I might meet y'all at the airport and train it with you. It's probably faster than driving... (Since Chicago's traffic is a fucking disaster).


b. Lee (7:35 PM): We'll just form our own train... You can be in the middle... Ride it straight to the Map Room.


Deuce (7:36 PM): Just call me Lucky Pierre


b. Lee (7:46 PM): You'll be feeling like Unlucky Pierre when I'm done with you.


Deuce (7:47 PM): The shit on your dick says your boyfriend is the most unlucky.


b. Lee (7:51 PM): Hahahaha... Prior to potty time is the best time for rear entry. Everybody knows that... Which is why the Deuce is always prepared.


Deuce (8:11 PM): Something about how David Beckham now plays for the White Sox


Deuce (8:19 PM): Something about how Deuce would like nothing more than to go down on David Beckham while he jams a weighted bat up his own ass...


Looking forward to it good buddy! Now if I can only find that lube...