The Tale of Willard, and His Epic Thursday Evening as a Werewolf Crack Monster


[names have been changed to protect the innocent, otherwise this story is true and the following emails were written by the author of the post. –PutUpYourDukes]

On Fri, Jul 25, 2008 at 11:50 AM, Jam Boy wrote:
The Tale begins one Thursday evening.

The lights are dim, and I am returning from a bar shift in browntown. I can hear a voice saying something that sounds like a cuss word, or possibly a slur aimed directly at me. From out of the shadows pops none other than Willard, pupils wider than his sockets can fit and a jawline that looks like it can grind diamonds.

After hours of restating the exact same conversation about his precious (pot), he begins to make no sense. He loses real contact with society and wanders off. An enormous thud comes from the top floor, he has fallen down the top flight of stairs. I ask him if he is okay, he insists he did not fall. I then witness him fall down the bottom flight of stairs. He locks himself out smoking a cigarette. He comes back upstairs into the kitchen takes a bong hit, and looks into the fridge holding the bong. He chugs the bong water accidentally thinking he had gotten something to drink out of the fridge. He spews it back up onto the kitchen floor. Now sick, Willard loses his balance and falls into the open dishwater rack breaking a dish that jams into his ass. I have to pull him free of this mess. He states his butt hurts now. He goes outside and locks himself out smoking a cigarette. I am asleep by now and have to hear him pressing our doorbell that has 13 different awful ringtones. He is now clearly time traveling and making no sense. I lock myself in my room hoping the bad man will go away, but he sat in front of my door screaming my name. Finally, the sun came up and the crack monster went to bed.

On Fri, Jul 25, 2008 at 1:51 PM, Jam Boy wrote:
Willard has just called me because he has locked himself out of the house. I came home and he is shirtless in the front yard with a look of utter shame. Why is he home at this time you ask?

He was sent home from work for being too drunk.


3 responses to “The Tale of Willard, and His Epic Thursday Evening as a Werewolf Crack Monster

  1. OH MY GOD, “Willard” is like my superhero.

    Sometimes this sort of incident occurs…aaaand sometimes he likes to get in diesel powered construction equipment and try to take out apartment complexes….

    That’s usually on Friday though…

  2. @Mark

    What’s funny is that you’ve penned the wrong man. The person you are referring to merits his own post. Actually, now that I think about it, the guy you are thinking of deserves an entire blog devoted to his exploits.

    God, I miss college.

  3. @ Bowzer,

    Someone else we all know and love merits his own posts as well…

    Just so happens this blog is the perfect outlet for shedding some light on his ridiculous/excellent/hilarious/inspirational collegiate adventures…

    PutUpYourDukes, beware.

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