Storyblog...

Well, I decided to get this myspace stuff started.  But I won't bore you with those details.  Instead, my alter ego, "Deuce Maverick, Private Eye" will take over from here.
I been in some pickles before.  No doubt about it.  I've been fed to sharks, chopped with meat cleavers, beat with logging chains, and sadly enough, hit over the head with a thousand dollar bottle of wine.  I've been in bar fights, cat fights, dog fights, hog fights, cock fights, and one of my favorites, a stewardess fight (at 39,000 feet no less).  Not to mention I've been thrown out of said airplane (at 8,000 feet), fell off a bridge, trapped in a cave, mugged by a midget, and beat silly by haggis.
Yeah, I've had some pickles.  But none of those can quite compare to where I find myself right now.  And no matter how hard I try, I can't stop looking at the dame's knockers squished up against my face.   You see, we...that is me and her, are locked up tight in a wooden box.  A homemade casket that is.  And her blessings upstairs are making this a very cramped time indeed.  What's worse though is that our comfy little tomb is slowly filling up with water.
But that's not the story really.  The story is how we got here in the first place....
(to be continued)