Oh, we have cunning plans, don’t we? We hearty few, we Borderline Sociopathic Boys, we do get up to things.

Remember our cunning plan to power our entire house by stealing electricity from the landline phone? That was a good one. Our probation for that one will be over soon, and the ankle bracelet doesn’t itch all that badly anymore. How about that jumbotron wedding proposal to a girl on a first date? That one should have worked, I tell you. Probably would have, too, if it wasn’t a blind first date. We can’t be expected to think of everything, can we?

Hold my beer and watch this isn’t a sentence, it’s a way of life. We have schemes and ideas, goals and angles for every situation. But somehow the bucket ends up on us, every time. It’s OK, though; I hear chicks dig scars.