Tangled Up In Pink

I have been unable to type over the past week because I have been without either of my pinkys. I discovered this just as Evil Wiener were gearing up for one of our mammoth rehearsals which always seem to end when the intesity gets to the point that the stars all foget their inhibitions and start darting to earth in search of twizzlers (the red kind). At any rate, when I went to strike the opening chords of our collosal rock session I was certainly unable to get anything out of my guitar, and that is pretty bad because my guitar is magic and plays by itself. You see, my pinkys and my guitar have spent a lot of time together and the guitar was so distraught over the loss of its two friends that it just couldn't ring a note.

I knew immediately that either Dylan, Naomi Judd or Pete Rose had taken my sacred digits. Being that rehearsal was impossible at this point I sent Chuck after Dylan, Groves after Pete Rose, and Mouse after Naomi Judd. I sent an identical box and the following note with each of them:

To whom it may concern. If my pinkys are placed in this box and returned to me, there will be no further examination into this matter. I have sent identical boxes to a plethora of sources in hopes of finding my small fingers and thus will not know from which source the pinkys came. If they are not returned I shall be compelled to contact The University of Vermont Equestrian team and the Royal Canadian Mounties of Yukon. Please return my pinkys if you have them, and please accept this Taco Salad in return for your precious time.

Needless to say, I sent Taco Salads along with all of them, and also needless to say is that my venture was a complete success. I just got my pinkys back, and the first thing I did was post to this blog because you, dear readers, are my people.