"Damn Straight" - The Curse on House Pluko

by Jon Wayne Pluko
It was a rainy November night in wonderful Scranton Pennsylvania on the eve of the Iraqi invasion. Those dirty sonsabitches had made it as far as Wilkes-Barre, PA. Scranton was the last outpost, the last beacon of light in a sea of retarded sexuality. I'm getting sidetracked... At any rate, Saddam Hussein had ordered my capture, but I wasn't gonna let those rag heads kill me, not without a fight. I had no choice but to surrender. Sometimes life just sucks. The one thing that they didn't know, was that I'm a master of disguise. I dressed myself up in women's clothing and stayed in my room for days on end. This was a few year's before the invasion, but I figure it's pretinent information, as it displays to you, my loyal readers, that I am indeed a cross-dressing fairy. Scratch that, I'm as hetero as they come. I, Jon Pluko, do not take it in the ass, not without a fight. Sometimes after a fight. Sometimes during a fight... but there is definately always some sort of fighting going on. Where was I? Oh yeah, the curse on the house of Pluko. Well, you see, my pops, he was a bitter son of a bitch. He might still be bitter, I can't really say. I don't even know if he's alive, but I'm alive. I'm alive... and I'm straight, God damnit! My pops, though, he's a little weird. I've seen him get a little squirrelly after a few drinks. That's another story for another time, though. I hope you enjoyed hearing this story as much as I enjoyed telling it.