Personally, here's the way I figure it.

Back in 2000, Mick was presented with a spud to use to stuff his thong. Mick had been using one but to no real advantage since he put it in the back and people thought he was dropping a load. The spud given to him at the Getaway was a very Special Spud with Voodoo like powers and had Mick used it properly, women would have been crawling all over him and begging for his blandishments. I'm not sure how you blandish but I think it's related to a good, healthy, fuck....to put it bluntly. Anyway, this was not done.

Indeed Big Mick elected to leave the "Special Spud" behind as though it were only some sort of joke. As the years have passed a strange and horrible change came over his genitalia. First a noticeable softening occurred followed by odd growths. Then as more time passed his dick began to shrivel and his nuts became dessicated and increasingly tiny. Finally just this past year the situation had deteriorated to the point that what were once his somewhat below average male genitals (let's not lie about these things here) had become a hideous little mess, looking akin to a broken toothpick trapped in a dust bunny.

Mick thought this was due to a remedy he had tried to cure erectile dysfuntion comprised of a mixture of burnt onion, mustard, & ketchup, in dill pickle juice. He rubbed it on his member and it had good effect except every time he passed a McDonald's he got a hard-on. He tried to sue for this but after engaging Mudcat attorney Richard Bridge he soon gave up. He told Richard the problem and Richard talked for 94 and a half hours non-stop using words heretofore unknown and unused in the language. Mick was dumbfounded, or perhaps just dumb but thanked Richard for the advice whereupon Richard talked for another 67 hours in some language which although sounding like English could not be identified by a panel of language experts to be anything but "utter and pure gibberish."

Mick continued to believe that the sorry state of affairs that had once represented his manhood had been taken by the use of a bad poltice. But at the Getaway this year, the truth was revealed to him. Bill D. had rescued and saved the Special Spud all these many years and presented it to Big (but now incredibly shriveled and small) Mick. When he looked in the bag, the truth was apparent. What remained of the tater was an exact replica of what remained of his genitals. I guess the Special Spud had some weird Voodoo-like powers and as it wilted, shriveled, and turned into fluff, so did Mick's three piece set.

I think this is what triggered Mick into joining the Horse Show. He may have griped and complained, but he really wanted that costume. I can see now his plan as I watch the tape. Notice where the head seems to come out?   Mick.....Buddy......Please man......It ain't gonna' work out for you. Give it up. The most some woman will do is give you a few "pets." Trust me, no sane woman is going to want anything the size of that horse head coming "near her".......if you get my drift.

Sorry to have to tell this sad story Mick, but the truth must be told before innocents are hurt. Should you want to sue me for slander though, I guess I can understand. However, I do need to inform you that your attorney, the afforementioned Richard Bridge, is undergoing treatment at the Neil Young Center for the Terminally Screwed. Actually he's not in the main NYCFTTS per se, but over in the new wing where he's being treated in the James Taylor Catatonic Blandness Rehab Clinic. I hear he's likely to be there a good while as his is a rough case, perhaps the worst they have ever seen including James Taylor himself. Amazing huh? That's like boredom to the 90th power. I understand that as part of the treatment he's to interpret the complete works and words of Roger Gall without repeating himself.

Spaw