You’ll be happy to know, my loyal Reader, that I am finally back at home, camped out in my trusty recliner. Ahhh the creature comforts of home; those comforts that we often take for granted but are appreciated ten fold when you are away from them for any length of time. It’s good to be home, and it is good to be able to share a vision with you.
During my return voyage to the homestead, I got to thinking about my image. Like many of you out there, I am, for the most part, content with my self image. However, from time to time, I feel the desire to switch it up, and this desire is currently burning a hole in my soul like a cigarette on upholstery. And, as Barney says, sharing means caring, and considering that I care for you all, I feel it only right to share my ideas for a new image.
To start off the overhaul, I am thinking I should get a perm. Not one of those wavy perms but a really tightly curled perm, much like that of one of the Brady boys. I figure you can’t go wrong with a perm, so it’s a good place to start. Next up on the Extreme Makeover LongStar Edition is the addition of some facial hair. Not just any facial hair mind you, but a nice, solid standalone mustache, or pornstache if you will. Something strong and bushy, yet well manicured, like Sam Elliot from Tombstone maybe. What is a new image without new clothing, so I’m thinking I can bring in some tapered jeans. Tight around the butt and crotch with that awesome leg design that says “Hey, I’m ready for a flood when you are.” I’m a bit undecided on the top, but I’m leaning towards a tight muscle shirt, or maybe even just a sleeveless shirt, you know, to show off the guns.
In my mind, the look is complete…so complete in fact that I figure I might need to find a new career to go along with it. I think male stripper would only be fitting. I bet I could parlay this into other career paths. Really, if you think about how hot it will be, I would most likely be in really high demand…music videos, the talk show circuit, Playgirl magazine. So with that, I would probably need an alias of sorts. Considering that I have really thought this through (it’s a long drive people), I think the perfect name for the new me would be Johnny McCockstein. I could market myself as an Irish-Jewish stripper. I can’t recall there ever being a prominent Irish-Jewish stripper in American society (or really any society), so it seems as though I would have a corner on the market, and nobody would have to know that I’m not really Jewish, or Irish for that matter (and so long as I don’t go on Oprah I should be okay with that little fib). I could cut an album at the pinnacle of my success called “Rock Out With Your McCock Out.” Maybe I could even write a book entitled Jew Wanna Piece of This? when my rise and fall is complete (but again, Oprah avoidance would be paramount).
It’s settled. Tomorrow I will make an appointment with a salon, take a detour by Cavendar’s, and begin my exciting new life as Johnny McCockstein.
So many memories, so many strange fluids gushing out of patients’ bodies.
–Dr. John D. Zoidberg