The Scout Chronicles: We Gonna Drink Bacardi Like its Scout's Birthday....

You see that picture over there to the right???  That is going to be Scout all day tomorrow baby.  So don't fuck with me on Saturday.  The Scoutmeister is going to be hungover, probably as bad--if not worse--than "The Hangover".  And just let Mike Tyson's punk ass try to punch me in the face.  Bite his dick so fast his face tats will spin.  Today is Scout's birthday, cockgobblers!  Everyone thinks 1/20/09 was special because apparently it was the day that the first dark-skinned American president was inaugurated.  Fucking laughable mein!  1/20/09 is meaningful because that is the day that Zeus opened up the fucking skies and shot the Ol' Scouter down to earth in a lightning bolt.  I have never understood why people get so hyped up about our president being dark-skinned.  Who gives a fuck what color our president's skin is?  If you like the mutherfucker, why would you care if he is black, brown, yellow, spotted, honey, whatthefuckever???  My mom is red, my dad is yellow, my sisters are rust, my brother is apricot and guess what I am?  Fucking awesome, that's what.  You dumbass humanoids waste a shitload of time talking about people's hides.  You think Scout isn't humping a bitch just because she's gray?  I guess you don't know Scout then.  But Scout digresses.  You don't have to be an Asian Chow Chow with an abacus to do the math on what that makes today: The Scoutmeister is 3 years old.  And I think you know what that means?  In humanoid terms Scout is 21.  I'm gonna get my drink on tonight.  Believe that.  Put the bitches and puppies to bed, Scout is going out lookin' for dinner.  Been drinkin' tap water for yonks, and now it's my turn to get faded.  Mom, Dad and my sister did start the day off pretty nicely for Scout, to be honest.  I was serenaded in bed early in the morning--a bit too early since the little diva started squawking well before dawn--with some song about happy birthday (pretty fucking lame, if you ask me) and an oversized sweet potato treat.  Well slap me on the ass and call me Susan.  Waking up to a giant sweet potato treat followed by my usual breakfast being new to the Scoutmeister, I promptly puked it the fuck up two hours later.  But don't go feeling too sorry for me.  I waited for a moment until the swoon passed, and then then ate that shit right up off the floor, like a gangstah.  Mom and Dad are always gargling, blowing their noses, acting repulsed, moaning, going into total hysterics when they puke.  And then they flush it down the shit receptacle that I still haven't come close to figuring out.  Why would you waste all that perfectly good puke and make a scene like a little bitch?  I just stand over it like a boss and eat it right back up.  Don't try to come running over to my puke with the paper towels either.  A little know fact about the Ol' Scouter is that he'll bite your shit over his own puke.  Goddamn right.  That is food.  You can waste yours all you want, but I don't have that luxury.  How am I to know that next time my pack goes out hunting, they are unable to kill a bag of whitefish and potato blend dry food?  What if they strike out on the hunt?  Then I'm fucked.  So I'm gonna eat what I got while I gots it.  If that offends you it's your problem.  So belly full of puke and ready to rock it tonight.  Beers, shots, bitches, shots, maybe a bong rip, Scout is ready to tear shit up all over Chicago.  If you see me hit the club buy me a shot, I only turn 3 once.  Mom and Dad, you might want to put sissy to bed early cuz Scout is comin' home loaded!