Someone please step upFor the life of Chuck Lefley, would one of you die-hards please step up and take that God-forsaken ask out at .075!? It's been there so long it feels like family - the crazy great aunt who drinks too much at Christmas and stands too close in polite conversation... that humid, sticky breath reeking of ash-soaked bourbon, mangey Belgian waffles, boiled grey meat and oleagenous denture scum... always looking for a kiss from the nephew. "Not on the cheek, honey. Right here on the lips... My how you've grown..."
C'mon, boys! You owe it to John Ryder and his ancestral Irish forefathers who battled the Huns on the rolling hills of Lochjahd and McGuillicutty and finally settled on the shores of the bovish Green River of Kilcarkenmeny.
Step up I say, with your catpults, hempish bows and rocks of bone crushing granite! Hammer that oppressive ask into oblivion and in doing so cast off the shackles of evil empires, cosmo-cenric teenage daughters and stingy barkeeps with their stained aprons and formica fetishes.
It's your duty boys! Now go!