If you’ve read earlier posts, you know that Old Yam my twin brother has been dating an elephant. Well, on September 27, 2007, Old Yam proposed. The marriage was on October 4th. But it was kind of strange. I was the Best Man, but I arrived at the wedding late because I had eaten a Big Mac and fallen into a Big Mac coma.

Old Ham set off a stink bomb and we had to order 5,000 clothespins to cover everyone’s noses. Then I dozed off and woke up at the wrong time: when Old Yam was kissing the elephant. I totally freaked out, running through the audience waving my arms around like a rabid animal. The only problem was that I ran into a present that was for Old Yam. It was shaving cream, which smeared all over my face. Then, everyone thought I really was rabid.

The wedding audience turned into an angry mob, trying to pin me down. I ran for my life, finally diving into a giant bowl of salsa. The bowl tipped over and spilled all the salsa. Some little kid thought it was blood with guts in it and threw up all over me. I ran for a nice lake that was supposed to be the place where Old Yam and the elephant would have their honeymoon.

I hurled myself in the lake, and was attacked by a bunch of pikes–the elephant’s favorite food. I swam out, leaving the pikes to their first taste of salsa. I ran to where the audience had gone back to sitting and watching the rest of the ceremony. I reached my place as Best Man and said my lines hurriedly, as the ceremony was ending. “MAY YOU ALWAYS LOVE EACHOTHER! NOW, LET’S EAT CHIPS AND SALSA!!!” It was the wrong thing to say, even though it had been scripted for me. Old Yam got all mad at me for getting rid of the salsa, and told his wife to charge me.

The charging succeeded, and I am scheduled to go to the hospital today and stay there for a few days.

After a two minute discussion, Ian and Nathaniel decided to rename Super Comics. It is now Geezers.

On May 1, 1922, Old Man Armpit Underpit and Old Yam Underpit were born. Since then, I’ve had some pretty good birthdays (and some which I hope I never have to go through again.) But my eighty-fifth birthday was probably the best one yet. Back in Babyland a mob that was pretending to be angry burned down my house, as is tradition. Then I went to the house of my good friends Ian and Joel. There the entire family surprised me with a chorus of, “Happy birthday to you, you live in a zoo, you look like a monkey and you smell like one too.” We had pumpkin muffins and I got a present of a monkey magnet. I’ll never forget that day, with Joel muttering his smart remarks and everyone going wild about me. I hope my eighty-sixth birthday is this good.

Oh, I forgot! Now I’ll have to change the “about” of this blog! It still says I am 84 years old!

Now, in addition to all the other businesses I own, I have now celebrated the grand opening of the Pig Place: a restaurant that produces purely pig foods. At the opening party, my band, the Blubbernuggets (consisting of me, Tough Bob, Old Yam, and Ian) played ‘There’ll Never Be Enough Pigs’. Ian was one of the people who came up with the idea of this new restaurant (I was the other person) so he’s the vice president. The way we got the idea was when we both had a dream about Elmo. In the dream, Elmo told us to make this pig paradise. I really hope you come eat at the Pig Place.

Old Yam has been trying to find himself a lady, but no one seems to want to go out with a man as large as him. But after much trial and searching, he finally found a person in common with him: an elephant. Don’t faint, but yes it’s true; Old Yam has got himself an elephant. Now the first thing Old Yam did was to introduce the elephant to all of his family. The elephant didn’t know what was going on, so several times we had to actually go on a chase and track it down whenever it ran away. Back at the little meeting party (which was outside for the elephant’s benefit), we couldn’t really get started yet. The elephant’s parents weren’t there to be introduced because they were owned by some tour guide in India. So, we had to get on the Indian hotline and ask for some random tour guide there. After about four hours or so, we finally got the right tour guide, but it was hard to speak with him because of his extremely broad Indian accent. The other thing was that he wasn’t that fluent in English, so my Uncle Bernie who has been in India several times had to get on the phone and tell the guide about our situation. It took a long time, and that says alot considering Uncle Bernie really likes a good conversation. Some of my cousins think that for half the time he was on the phone, he and the guide were actually having a deep discussion about Italian spaghetti. When the elephants were finally arriving from their Concord shipping plane, it was almost midnight. So the party was postponed for the next day. When the party officially started, it was a great relief. We had hamburgers (extra-Extra-EXTRA-large ones for the elephants). The only bad thing that happened was when Old Ham made a gravy-shooting machine-gun and everybody got smothered in gravy. The elephants enjoyed licking the gravy off everyone, though. All of Old Yam’s family is now expecting him to marry the elephant (and I apologize for saying ‘the elephant’ over and over again, but there is a logical reason: we don’t know her name at all!).

I kind of feel offended that no one sent doctors to help the sleepers get better, but now they’re all awake again. The bad thing is that now the southern part of Babyland is being overrun by chickens and turkeys who are demanding for us to sign a treaty that says we won’t eat them for Thanksgiving. The army of assaulting poultry is growing more violent, so my highly trained combat specialists are marching out to battle proudly waving a flag with Elmo on it. Tough Bob, Old Yam, and I are the chief commanders of this army, and are retiring right now to rest. Let me give you a word of advice: don’t attempt to eat a chicken or turkey if I don’t post the okay on this blog.

I am a former rock star, in case you didn’t know. Not two days ago, I was invited to a rock convention to sing and play rock. I really miss my entertaining days, so I accepted. Me and Tough Bob sang while Old Yam played the drums. My entire family was cheering me on, and I am proud of myself.

My worst nightmare is a horrific robed figure with a fish about to slap my head. But not before it teases me about being the most dimwitted person on Earth. Well, today I was visited by it. The robed horror walked up to me, and the teasing began. “How does it feel to be the one person on Earth who cannot add 1 and 1 correctly!” he said to me. Now I find that particularly annoying because me, as well as everyone else on this planet, knows that 1+1=11. When he said these words, I trembled dramatically as I prepared myself for more insults. But apparantly, he decided to slap my head and get it over with. I saw him reach inside his robe for the fish, and I closed my eyes. Then I felt something sharp hit me, but it was not a fish. I opened my eyes and saw a pin on my shirt that said: I WAS SCARED BY MY TWIN BROTHER! I looked up, and there was my brother Old Yam in a robe, trying to scare me. After that experience, I’ve been less gullible than I was before, but that robed, armed, insulting figure will still be my worst nightmare.

The Babyland Institute of Noses (BIN) has decided to help my twin Old Yam finally get back the nose he lost when he and I were seperated at birth. Let’s all hope that Old Yam will be happy with the new nose we are preparing for him.