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By Smaktakula

Tardsie, Where The Hell Are You?

 Oh, happy day!–we’ve just received word from the Shelby County Sheriff’s Department that our beloved Editor-In-Chief, Tardsie D. Bagg, has been found alive–and for the most part well–in Memphis, Tennessee. During our brief and acrimonious phone conversation with the nylon adventurer, Tarsdie explained in greater detail how he was found lying on the grave of Elvis Presley, turned inside-out and smeared with a honey-like substance.

Some Folks Perform The Haj, But Tardsie Goes To Graceland.

Tardsie’s recollection of the days following his last known appearance in Aberdeen, South Dakota, is understandably dim. Disturbingly, Tardsie insists that for the last two or three days, he’s been hiding in the attic of Graceland, playing Connect Four with an aging Elvis while the two of them gorged themselves silly on peanut-butter & OxyContin sandwiches.

This Photo Was Taken Just Moments Before The Grisly Orgy Of Blood And Greasepaint That Left Mr. Chuckles Clinging To Life.

As temporally improbable as such a claim is, you must admit, it sounds like something those two would do.

Thanks To Certain Provisions In The Patriot Act, This Is As Close To The White House As Tarsie Is Allowed To Get.

Tardsie Knows Lots Of Famous People. Elvis Is Just The Coolest.

A Wench Of Easy Virtue On Your Arm, And A Belly Full Of Pills And Mayonnaise. Does It Get Any Better Than This?

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