No need to worry. He’s learned his lesson. He sent us these via email without any attachments and, shit, you know what, they’re pretty good! Eat ‘em up.

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No long, drawn-out intro today. Just five tickets (that’s right, Eddie, not two) to paradise. Enjoy.

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Random examples, which in part represent the canon of Camp[ing]:

* “End-of-the-World” billboards
* Alex Jones’ Infowars
* The wife’s picadillo plate
* Eschatological sex

While we would agree that No. 4 is as as good a way to end it all as any, we give you the stories below to keep you entertained. At least until the next prediction, that is…

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Mornings are reserved for simian stoops over toilet seats, treadmill agonies, and what the daughter calls “ugly eggs.” Afternoons, we run in sweat to catch the breathing man before his underwater dance. Evenings we sleep, barely, and in sparse dreams with jovial lips we spring on the parapets of icy flames, just for a taste. But even the daily grind will not consume us. We will endure, like the stories below. Enjoy.

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Sock ‘em. Fry ‘em. Slap ‘em. Tap ‘em. Nick ‘em. Taste ‘em. Taunt ‘em. Share ‘em. Lick ‘em. Bake ‘em. Serve ‘em. Stain ‘em. Do-whatever-you-want-with ‘em. But not before reading ‘em. After that, after they’ve claimed your soul, do as you wish. Go ahead and try. The stories will never let you go. Hasta pronto, amigos.

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