Wet Snug, Courtesy of JBinks.com

Hey Boys,

It's January in Austin and you know what that means...
That's right, summer's almost here. Swimming in Barton Springs, SXSW, cargo shorts and flipflops, and of course, getting it on in the hot hot heat.

Well, after a long day of hot activities, the Austin Home for Boys enjoys a hot night of activities, if you know what I mean. All that action can really wear you out. So here at the Home, Herr Kraut recommends restoring your energy with the Wet Snug.

A Beer
Clam Juice
Tomato Juice
Salt
Peper
Celery

Mix all that stuff together, add a sweaty lady, and get yer pants a hoppin'.

The Wet Snug, a sexual aperitif. "For after what you were doin' & you're done."®

Special thanks to JBinks.com for knowing how to satisfy a sister.

Here's Spicoli

Hello, dear readers, and welcome back to the Austin Home for Boys in this New Year. I hope you’ve all had a good holiday season and that you were all safe wherever you were. We certainly had a good time here at the home. We had much to be thankful for, but much to look forward to as well. Multiple fund-raisers this year will see us striving for a new tennis court, new cafeteria benches, and some new computers. If you are out there with bountiful means, please utter a prayer for us and be thankful. If you are out there with lacking means, we will certainly say a prayer for you. Today’s poster would be first in line with that prayer. His name is Spicoli Stetson. He is a pleasant, sunny boy, with much wonder and generosity. He wishes you well in the New Year as do we all. And don’t forget to stop by frequently to see what the boys are up to this year.

Sincerely,

Mary F. Reilly

Hello my dudes. I am Spicoli. I like things like the ocean and fun. The ocean is big and fun. I like Jessica Simpson. She is real pretty. I like to hear her songs. She seems neat. My favorite food is burritos. Just cheese ones are the best but I like faheetas to. I don’t like school. It is boring and my teachers are mean. These are things that I like and I do not like. Also I wrote a poem about the beach which is where I was born.

Rad

Spicoli

The Beach

Spicoli S.

I like the beach very much

It has sand is and is very fun

You can surf there and see seegulls

The beach is fun because it is cool

It is fun because it is nice

And when you see a righteous babe say hay

and ask her if she wants to party

The Return

Hello again, readers. This is my second post. I believe I was cut short in my last correspondence regarding the dynamics of my and my wife’s relationship. In keeping with my need for secret identity, I will refer to her as Lanis. Regarding our relationship, then: we’ve hit a bit of a lag in terms of our passion and communication. I suppose it started shortly after the birth of our daughter. Lanis had to forgo her career to take care of the child. I do remind Lanis she can resume her career when little Lena grows older, but still she seems to have a bit of depression. The odd thing is that she harbors no resentment for me in continuing my day job. It is my night activities, my superheroics, that garner her anger. We’ve talked about my superheoring before, but now with the child, everything is more complicated. Lanis states that before it was just her, and that was okay with her, but she cannot abide my recklessness with a child to consider. Her argument reminds me of our wedding night. Lanis and I had gotten into a fight over the same thing when I heard a distant cry for help. I had to dash out and rescue some folks from sharks, and by the time I returned, Lanis was already asleep. I had assumed that that night had proven to her how difficult it is for me to stop my extra-curricular activities. If she only knew how it felt to be needed all the time, to be demanded of, to be asked of time and time again…sorry, I digress. It isn’t either of our places to ask the other to be anything but what we are. I am truly sorry at times for Lanis’ and my stresses. In regards to that, I have a confession to make. During Lanis’ and my recent counseling session, I pretended to hear a cry for help just a few blocks away. But there was no cry. I used it as an excuse to get away from a difficult question she had asked. I soared out of our counseling office and flew for a few blocks before setting down and hiding in a coffee shop for god-knows-how-long. I just couldn’t face her. She asked me…she asked…well, I couldn’t face her. God help me, I just couldn’t face her. But I suppose that is all for now. I think a truck may have just turned over down the highway.

Be safe and live well,

unknown superguy

ps. happy New Year

Bud's Famous Holla Day Warmin' Nog

Many of us won't get many presents this Christmas. Herr Kraut says that's cause the Austin Home For Boys has no chimney. Clint says it's because Jesus is Jewish. Hard to tell really. But when you don't have any presents under your tree, put Egg in your Nog. It will make the depression go away.

Here is Bud's world famous Holla Day depression medication.

Special thanks to Mrs. Argyle's 2nd grade class for drawing the recipe:

The Real Meaning of Christmas?

Keep your lights on and a shotgun trained on the fireplace. BE SAFE, AUSTIN.

Happy Holla Daze!!

Steve, our DM, is a BALL BUSTER