Monday, June 29, 2009


You may think the only way for Billy Mays to put out that kind of energy about a cleaning product would be for him to be tweaked out of his brains on meth.

You are most likely right.

But F U douche, he had access to genius. You know...while you're sewing farts into the couch cushions waiting to call his 800 number for schlocky products, he's banking pimp-ish cash flow. Billy owned a chunk on all the schwag he sold. So take your jokey bits and jam them up your stink button.

I loathe the notion of tipping a cap to a dye-bearded dude, but watching Billy late night full tilt on mushrooms really kicked the whole trip into a new time-space locality. Now I'm left with that Slap Chop quiff...didn't he get irons clapped on him for hookery?

Nice trip Billy, rest easy

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