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I get a large number of questions about my personal life.
Mostly from the FBI, but some from my devoted followers. I will share with you
one of the emails I received.
“Brian,
What the fuck are you thinking
sending me these emails every damn night before you go to bed? How many times
do I have to tell you this, if you don’t stop this, I am going to involve the
law”
What a great question! I am sure
many of you would like to know my bedtime routine, and I will be happy to share.
After I decide I am sleepy, I
generally start the preparations. I take a fast hot shower to clean out my
pores and wash the red stain of Hawaiian Punch Light from my chest hair. Then,
while my tootsies are still well hydrated, I coat my feet with Vaseline. Not
just a little, but I really cake the stuff on to lock in the moisture. Then I
put on my socks. I don’t really like socks, but if I walk around with just the
Vaseline I’m afraid I’ll slip. It is also very difficult to put on my
incredible hulk pajamas with your feet coated in Vaseline. They don’t actually
have the incredible hulk on them—they have The Snorks on them, but I call them
my incredible hulk pajamas because they are like 5 sizes to small and the pants
are (mostly) purple. I then stretch to relax my muscles (mostly making
incredible hulk poses in front of a mirror and growling)
Now that my body is as relaxed as my mind, I
download some random porn shots from the internet and mail out the good ones to
various peoples work email addresses. I usually use the tag line “I told you to
quit sending me this junk—now see how you like having it sent to where you
work!”
Then I turn on 3 different fans, aimed to
create a vortex of comforting cool air around my bed. Fill up my magic
humidifier with tap water and a sprits of lemon juice, to get the perfect level
of moisture/scent in the air. Lastly I feed my cat a half a bowl of Special
Kitty, and then one piece of special kitty that I have been soaking in Tabasco
sauce. (This keeps him from eating too fast)
Now I gather up my special pillows and lay them
around my nesting spot, crawl in and recite my nightly prayers. “Dear Lord,
please don’t let me ever get caught. If I die, please let my house burn down
before my family searches the place. Please let Special Agent Jenkins get a
really bad rash so he will know what it is like to feel a burn you can’t do
anything about. I know I haven’t really been good lately, but you are the one
who invented diabetes, so I’m still pretty pissed at you and I think you owe me
a few 'freebies'. Maybe a small lottery hit, or some tragedy in Liv Tyler's
life to send her into porn. Amen" Nothing left after that but pure
guilt-free sleep. |
