...of charm and strange: the blog

A while ago Luke ended up with a shitload of 50 cent pieces. He had no idea where they came from, they were suddenly in his coin drawer for no reason at all. Perhaps 50 Cent climbed down our chimney and deposited them there, like Santa except less a benign symbol of the Christmas season and more like a menacing thug entering our home as we slept peacefully in our beds. Even if he did break in, instead of leaving piles of 50 cent pieces he would more likely shoot us both in the mouth. Nine times. And then he would collaborate with Lil' Kim on a song that referred to his cock as "the magic stick." No wait, that last one really happened.

But I digress. I was showing Laura my new collection of 50 cent pieces (Luke had no use for them, as they could not be used in any vending machines, just kidding I meant in the washing machine or dryer), and I said, "I like having big coins. It makes me feel like I'm a pirate." What I'm trying to say is, it's a shame there aren't pirates anymore.