Malibu Manor -- the cavernous, lavishly appointed estate of yours truly Malibu Sands -- will serve as ground zero for the week's alcohol, sausage, and cheese log fueled proceedings, with the nearby Dorothy Day Center & Emergency Shelter providing cots, hot meals of nourishing gruel and succulent cow hooves, state of the art amenities such as carpeted hallways, round the clock police surveillance, the opportunity to bathe yourself with running water in semi-privacy as opposed to your own urine in front of your fellow derelicts, a washer & dryer (estimated wait time 72 hours), and a secure locker for your collection of about to be recycled cans, complimentary mental health assessments, daily lice and hepatitis screenings, and a diminished sense of purposelessness and despondence to conclave attendees in the event we require overflow capacity.
The itinerary is already coming together nicely, although proposals for breakout session panels and presentations are still being accepted. Highlights include:
- The transference the Hulk Hogan autobiography on tape into my possession.
- Geen Ween live at the cozy Turf Club. From my understanding, Buck "Rock & Roll" Zumhoffe has been hand picked by the Geener as the opening act.
- Gazing upon Sara Undertaker's latest driftwood carvings at this year's Art A Whirl.
- St. Paul pub crawl with keynote speaker, honorary conference master of ceremonies, and designated drunk driver Larry Nelson.
- Touring historical places, including Robbinsdale High School (where the likes of Curt Henning, Rick Rude, John Nord/The Berzerker [husk, husk], The Z-Man Tom Zenk, Nikita Koloff, and Barry Darsow/Demolition Smash/Krusher Khruschev/Repo Man
skippedattended class), the 1980s hotbed of cabin fatty pickups and hookups Jukebox Saturday Night, the Minnesota History Museum (where I believe the dunk tank used to drench Larry Nelson at the previously mentioned landmark is preserved for current and future generations of Minnesotans and rasslin' fans to pay no heed to and saunter pastgaze fondly upon), and the cemetery where affable shoeless hobo scuffler Rocky Mountain Thunder's career is buried.
- Volunteering at the Friendship Village nursing home and tossing our empty beer cans at the disoriented and sure to already be highly agitated Verne Gagne.
- Procuring freshly cooked meth, fireworks, bootleged DVD's, gently used porno mags, and counterfeit boomboxes out of the back of Buck Zumhoffe's late 1970s model rape van.
- Urban exploring adventures at the abandoned meccas of cheap beer manufacturing, the old Schmidt's and Hamm's breweries. I anticipate that the tastings will be complimentary.
- Enticing the girls at Augie's to recreate The Donovan via generous compensation passed through a slot in the Plexiglas window.
- Hosting a barbecue and live rasslin' party in my spacious backyard featuring an adorable, teeny, most certainly unsafe ring and a shirtless Buck Zumhoffe removing his trousers in an impetuous, startling and highly unsettling fashion.
What the fawk are you waiting for? Book yr tix to the Twin Cities, Facebuster nation! Do it...NOW!!!