The who how in this hoosegow and the which of what they may be fledgling about

Engage this intropersecutory entry at once 

Oh boy, where do I even begin. Well this is a fleeting piece of the internets where if you're already here, it's already too late for you. But since your here, I suppose tis not matter the least, and you could forgo the chagrin and ignominious regret otherwise. This here is a little something I put together to sometimes ravage and mutilate my thoughts and doldrums onto this here little shackle of lucidity. You could call it an outlet of sorts, if you will.

The only thing plugged in however is the tantalizing attraction for which it may dispatch, be it little at that, towards the complacent rubbernecks that trench across these sovereign spheres of deviance.

Given that idea, or not, I figure it may as well suit me to fill it with things. But what kind of things may make their way into a heap of smarmy disinterested mirth that is this webcoven here? Well if you're expecting treasure or little gold nuggets, I suggest you return your make-believe pirate hat back at the party store, and rip off that awful fake mustache while your at it. Gentlemanlyness is unbecoming in this sissified house of fraudulent debauchery.

Well what than exactly? I'd like to think this'll be the outlet of all my opinionated rants, reviews and critique, and swollen clandestine peaks into my noggin, inebriated of sense and worth as it may be. Oh yeah, and I told a budding acquaintance I'd recap some stuff here aswell, so I gotta do that on coercion of persistence and strides of not looking like surly scallywag that I am. Not that it won't be splenetic. Not like I'm ever in a good mood or have ever been mistaken for pleasant hospitality otherwise, but you might just be the first. (nah) And there you haves at it.

Oh, and what of me, the author of this inquisitive romp, of this narrating jape of insolence he allows on the whim of his proverbial carnal-tube lodged somewhere up the base of your poopdeck? Ayyye he ain't nothin' special. Likes the watch and read things, than make farce. Is a weird boy-girl vaguely humanoid thing with a measure in this world too disparate for words or present state of hereby inquiry. It's not beyond the reach of this blog, but y'all have to stick through the filth if you want to reach the oinking porcine scoundrel behind the pigpen. 


So grab a juicebox or sandwich or whatever you kiddies eat these days with your frumpy striped overalls and puffy cotton poop-pillows between your gaping crapholes, and sit back as the fool tries to juggle a few errands. Hopefully they won't fall and crack and kasploot him too bad, but either way the audience is bound to get far goopier on this end of the cynical rectum chutesore-scale than I have any right to be, given they paid the pennies of interest their meager attention spans had allowed for. (Maybe in a more literal sense at that?) That be that.

Peace out bromeos and jewfroets.