who is charlie chortle?

My photo
452 pragtishana alley, vlertomia, Afghanistan
hi, my name's charlie chortle and this is my blog. it covers my trials and tribulations of gaining and losing employment. some call it freelancing but i call it downright insane. so get down with this here mo fo blog and get to it with me. y'all know w'sayin' dawg! and just for the record, although my mailing address is in afghanistan, i'm from czechoslovakia, where i was once a children's television star. i am currently more widely known for my scientific research on the sex life of pre-pubescent penguins and the ramifications it has on global warming. read on!

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

charlie chortle gets picked up by sharlene shontelle

not like i had any time to blog while packing for versasia. i'm a tiny bit skeptical about this versasia trip. i know... i'll get miss mystery to pay me a cash advance then cut out of town. no...that would ruin my reputation as a human being who actually has a soul. i know, i'll just go and see what happens. wait a minute...what's that hanging out out my suitcase? it's a  2 gb jump drive...look it's got "top secret" labelled on it. get me to my usb port right now and let me see what's on it. dum de dum, hmm...la di da. oh my gaaaaa....it's photographs of me.  one at meganormous, one at the music store, one selling miniature polystyrene nuclear explosion models in philadelphia, one of me half naked with - who the fuck is that? what the hell is going on here?  wait a minute, there's a .doc! i'll open it up. here's what it says "dear mr. chortle, you're right, there is no versasia, there are no ecclesiastical snow otters, but where you're going you will need a surgeon with a keen-ness in cloning. in exactly 7 seconds after reading this .doc, sharlene shontelle, your mysterious gorgeous literary agent will be ascending from a helicopter onto your roof while guards escort you to her side. Sincerely, h14". At that moment, the door flew open as armed guards escorted me, my suitcase, and one tiny atomic bomb replica to the roof.  The megidecibels of the pflat, pflat, pflat, pflat,pflat, deafened me, and there she was hanging from a rope, screaming...."hurry charlie, hurry"

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