Today I almost had the pleasure of meeting the infamous Butt Jackson. Whilst cooking some of the finest grubbin to ever touch the palettes of my sweet Clones, a Butt Jackson late plate was left on top of the robo coup. The handwriting of our beloved Butt Jackson is amazingly simple, common and it appears as though this mysterious individual has never had a handwriting class in all their life.
But was it really Butt Jackson? Why would this tamer of tigers, breeder of elephants and mystical rider of dolphins spend the evening in Cloyne, to be seen by no one but to leave a late plate? Will Butt Jackson come back for the plate? When? How? Why?
Following the Creativist Convention of Comrades and Creators in mid-January, no one has heard or seen Butt Jackson. This is the first of hopefully many tickles and joy-imes this being brings to Clones all over the world.
Long live Butt Jackson-- and friends, next week is a day of Butt Jackson proportions-- Butt Jackson appreciation day.
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