All right, kids. Circle up. Daddy’s got good news and bad news.

The bad news is that the KSK Gay Mafia’s annual convention (AKA Hot Buttered Love Fest ’07), which had been scheduled to go down this weekend at an undisclosed temple of Unsilent Majority’s choosing, has been postponed indefinitely.

The good news is that KSK has named its official Super Bowl XXXXI correspondent, and that person is none other than ME, Captain Caveman. That’s right: I’m going to Miami.

It is SO. Fucking. On.

I know what you’re thinking: He’s just trying to get a ride on the Spain Train. That is completely untrue. Also, that nickname is disrespectful and inappropriate. Her name is “Sarah.” She’s a human being, too, you know.

No, I’m not going specifically for Miss Spain, though my application to be her date has been submitted, and I have to say I’m feeling pretty confident about it (two words: cock shot). The excuse I have for going to Miami — at least until I score a ticket to the big game — is that I managed to swing a media pass (with a +1, thank you very much) to Saturday night’s Penthouse party. Yes, the same Penthouse party that you, too, can go to if you buy a $1000 ticket. If you had a thousand dollars to spend on one frivolous night of drinking and ogling nude models. But you don’t. You fucking plebes.

Ah, but who shall I take? Decisions, decisions. Perhaps I’ll hold an Internet contest where interested females must send me emails (with pictures, natch) in order to be my date to the exclusive open-bar party. Hmmmm… Tempting, but no. I’m not opposed to the concept, but it’s not quite original any more. So I guess the ticket goes to either Miss Sarah Spain or whomever offers me a bed… or both — wink, wink. (note to Sarah: totally kidding! Pick me!)

However, I suppose I’m willing to entertain offers. Ladies, the hotline is open. Send me an email containing a typo-free essay with flawless grammar and at least one picture, and maybe we’ll talk. Especially if that picture has titties.

Stay tuned here and at With Leather for all my reports from Miami, starting Thursday night. Probably. It depends on how much I drink. I may very well die this weekend.