What's up, cum dumpsters? MetalWoof here. I hijacked Finnegan's account to give you this delicious little update. Well, I went out to a cabin (smack-dab in the center of the asshole of the galaxy, Carbondale) last week, and, between dips in the hot tub and getting totally drunk off my fat ass, I had me a barbecue!

What was on the menu, you ask? Well, we started off with a little light salad, with dressing made from the souls of the damned, and then we slow-roasted your childhood, which was marinated in your hopes, dreams and aspirations. For a side we had a mashed potatoes, made from the scrambled fetuses of aborted babies, imported directly from Harlem. The whole meal was covered with the scrapings from your mother's cancer sore, and was accompanied with a vintage white wine!

Mmm, filling! Julia Child, eat your heart out.