so apparently that was a bad investment

Sigh. Yes it's me, The Haiku Master. And brother, am I ever depressed.

Remember my last epic saga, "Wheelin' and Dealin'"? In which Old Man Winter and I teamed up to buy 95% of the world's supply of Egyptian cotton, with a presumed fortune coming our way once we sold it? Yeah. Funny thing is, Haiku International's Minister of Operations, Oswald "Oz" Carver, has been doing his damndest for more than a month to find a buyer, and guess what? The best offer he's gotten so far is a team of donkeys and 12 girls of marrying age from an impoverished village in the Andes.

In other words, unless you're a polygamist, Egyptian cotton is worthless. Which means the Pharaoh of 5-7-5 has been ripped off. And the Pharaoh of 5-7-5 hates being ripped off!!

As It Turns Out, Egyptian Cotton Isn't Worth A Dime

So beware, Milo Minderbender, beware! Wherever you go, wherever you hide, I will find you... and when I do, it shall surely be clobbering time!

Best,


----------------------
P.S. As the more observant amongst you have no doubt already noticed, three new The Haiku Master Epic Sagas comic book covers are now available: one for "Wheelin' and Dealin';" one for my tussle with the Scientologists, now entitled "Xenu and Me;" and a long-overdue one for "World of the Dogs." Enjoy!

wheelin' and dealin', pt. III

***
CHAPTER III

The deal went down without a hitch -- much to my surprise, might I add! Shortly after the two showed up, Minderbinder was on his way with an attaché case full of cash, leaving Old Man Winter and myself in possession of stock certificates good for 95% of the entire world market for Egyptian cotton.

"Can you believe it, Haiku Master?!" Winter screeched, gleefully tossing two fistfuls of certificates above his head. "Hey, Haiku Master! Can you believe it?! What'd I tell you, huh? We're gonna be rich, baby! Filthy, stinking, dirty-drawers rich!"

"It certainly does appear to be the case," I said. "I wonder what all this is worth?"

"Millions! Billions! Gazillions!" mused Winter. "I mean, look at it all! Plus, we got ninety-five percent of the market! That's practically a monopoly!"

"True... but it's pronounced 'mah-no-paul-eee.' But why quibble over semantics? Let's celebrate!"

And celebrate we did! After directing the Motel 6's concierge to send up a cooler chockfull of beer and ice, we headed to one of Cairo's many fine beaches, and soon made the acquaintance of these local bunnies:

The Haiku Master (Left) And Old Man Winter Always Have Time For The Ladies

Our group partied long into the night, and parting proved to be as unsweetly sorrowful as ever when O.M.W. and I bid our farewells to those middle-aged vixens the next morn. After checking out of the Motel 6, Winter and I shared a taxi to Cairo International, where we went our separate ways -- he to the North Pole, and me to Castle Haiku.

"Haiku Master! Hey, Haiku Master! I'll see you later, okay?!" Winter shouted, just as the airport's security screeners found the live grenades I'd planted on his luggage earlier that day. A platoon of hired goons descended upon him with boots and clubs, providing me with a good chuckle as I whizzed through the V.I.P. gate to the waiting Haiku Plane.

Make no mistake, though -- Winter will get his share once Haiku International's Minister of Operations, Oswald "Oz" Carver, finds a suitable buyer for the Egyptian cotton. After all, I may be petty, but the Pharaoh of 5-7-5 always honors his debts! So sayeth I... The Haiku Master!

wheelin' and dealin', pt. II

***
CHAPTER II

Following Old Man Winter's frantic phone call, I directed Castle Haiku's staff to prepare the Haiku Plane for takeoff, and was Cairo-bound within the hour. Upon landing at Cairo International Airport, I cast about for a ride to the local Motel 6... and soon found one in the form of a slackjawed lad and his camel-powered buggy!

Cairo

"I know you!" the boy, Fuad, gasped as we trotted through the packed city streets. "You are a very famous American, yes?"

"Er, well, I don't like to toot my own horn, but yes, yes I am," I replied, truthfully.

"I knew it! Where have I seen you?"

"Well, I'm the internationally renowned crimefighter known as..."

"Yes, now I know! You are on that very funny show, how you do you say it, 'Kids in the Hall!'"

"'Kids in the Hall?'"

"Yes!"

"No..."

"Yes!"

"...it rings a bell, but..."

"Yes!"

"No, really, I'm..."

"Cabbage Head! Yes, you are the Cabbage Head! Ha ha ha, I knew it! You make me laugh so much on the television! Please -- please let me have your autograph!"

"Cabbage Head!? Why you-!!" I barked. "I'm The Haiku Master, fool, not some two-bit impersonator!"

"But..."

"But nothing! I've heard enough! That's my stop up there -- pull over!"

Fuad savagely forced the camel to halt, and I disembarked.

"Wait, wait mister, don't be angry," he begged. "It's just that you look so much like him!"

"Hmm. Well, I suppose it is a common enough mistake," I said as I paid the fare. "Nevertheless, the Sultan of Syllables doesn't take kindly to being compared to lame sketch comedy characters from Canada! Now good day, sir!"

Grabbing my bag, I headed to the Motel 6's front desk. After checking in, I asked the concierge to inform Old Man Winter of my arrival, then went up to my room to await his call. It didn't take long; I was only into my second glass of George Dickel: The Official Whisky of The Haiku Master when the room's phone started to ring.

George Dickel No's. 8 & 12: The Only Whisky Endorsed By The Haiku Master

"Haiku Master's room," I answered, suavely. "Haiku Master speaking."

"Hey, Haiku Master! Haiku Master, it's me, Old Man Winter! How's it going?"

"It's going fine, but a busy man like me doesn't have time for pleasantries. Now what's going on with this Egyptian cotton deal?"

"Oh right, the cotton! Hey Haiku Master, listen, it's all under control! Minderbinder's here and he's ready to get down to business. We're gonna be rich, baby -- filthy, stinking rich!"

"Minderbinder? Who's this Minderbinder?"

"Oh, Milo -- he's the broker on this little transaction. Don't worry about him though, Haiku Master, he's cool. Me and him go way back."

"You're trying to tell me that someone named Milo Minderbinder is 'cool?'"

"Yeah, Haiku Master! You can trust me on this -- I haven't gone off my meds since February! Honest!"

"Well, as much as it pains me, I suppose I'll have to take your word for it. Where does 'Milo' want to do this? Your room? My room? The motel's lounge? Time's a-wastin', man!"

There was some muffled chatter from Old Man Winter's end. Seconds passed, and then: "Hey Haiku Master! Haiku Master, it's me, Old Man Winter! You still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here! And stop shouting, goddammit!"

"Okay, great! Listen, he says we're coming over there -- room 227, right?"

"Right, 227. Now hurry up. And bring your own booze for once, you mooching bastard!"

I set the receiver down and finished off my drink, wondering what kind of bad craziness would ensue once O.M.W. and this Minderbinder freak walked through the door. Little did I know I had nothing to worry about!

---CLICK HERE FOR 'WHEELIN' AND DEALIN'' PT. III---

yeah, i don't really know where that camp x-ray thing was going

Err... hi there, friends. It's a rather sheepish The Haiku Master who stands before you tonight, because, well, I have a little confession to make.

Remember how I told you I didn't write to you for a month because I'd been incarcerated at Camp X-Ray? Um, that was kind of a lie. This photo from a couple weeks ago, that allegedly shows yours truly being escorted through Gitmo's fabled gates? Yeah. It's doctored.

Despite Looking Shockingly Real, This Photo Is In Fact A Fake

Truth is, I spent the time playing Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. I didn't mean to spend more than a month away from the ol' "blog," but man, that game is addictive! So, sorry about blowing off you loyal readers, and even more sorry about the lying. But if it makes any difference, I did in fact beat the game, meting out harsh justice to Big Smoke, Tenpenny, Ryder and all the other scoundrels who had a hand in the untimely demise of Moms and Brian Johnson! Grove 4 Life! Grove 4 Life!!

GROVE 4 LIFE!!!

Oh, and there is one small nugget of truth for you to savor. Old Man Winter and I really did partner on a deal to purchase Egyptian cotton from a man named Milo Minderbinder, as detailed in Chapters I & II of the falsely titled "Summer at Camp X-Ray." The deal went through without a hitch, then me and O.M.W. partied on the beach with some middle-aged housewives. Here's photographic proof:

The Haiku Master (Left) And Old Man Winter Make Time With Some Local Vixens At One Of Cairo's Many Fine Beaches

Well, I'm glad I got that off my chest. Okay for now, fan club members! Until next time, keep your ear to the ground and keep reaching for the stars!

Best,


----------------------
P.S. For the really slow amongst you, this means there will be no further chapters of "Summer at Camp X-Ray."

P.P.S. No, the Pharaoh of 5-7-5 did not sample San Andreas' notorious "Hot Coffee mod." Not that he didn't try, but one apparently needs a degree in advanced rocket science to pull off that trick.