Sunday, May 18, 2008


If any of you are reading this crap on some kinda RSS feed or some automated thingie like that I'd just like to apologize for the way I don't even spellcheck or add jokes and links and shit the first time I post anything 'cause I like editing my shit Live on the Internet and I gotta wait a while before I can self-edit.

I can't imagine anybody reading my crap on a feed and actually liking my first drafts enough to keep reading it on a feed so I doubt that's much of a problem but mebbe there's some kid in a mountain valley somewhere that can't get anything else but my godawful website feed for some godawful tragedy-of-cosmic-proportions kinda reason ahaha.

Kid, you need to get out of that mountain valley, man, and read my shit on the internet, its like, way better if you wait an hour before reading anything I write.

I'm just kidding, y'know, yer actually way better off in the mountain valley, trust me, nothing I or anybody else out here has got to say is worth climbing a hill for AHAHA.

Hey, if you want, I'll come over there to your hidden mountain valley fulla dinosaurs and just tell you all my hilariously awesome stuff in person, its a lot better that way 'cause I suck at typing.

Plus I can help you get chicks and fight dinosaurs and stuff.

I just need room and board (board is food right?) and whatever you call coffee and cigarettes in any place where "board" means "food."


Melmoth said...

Hey if you think you can get into this valley past the epic firewall that the raptors have set up, be my guest.

It's not like one of those easy brontosaurus firewalls of yore, these raptors are as clever as hell, Jurassic Park clever, they do deep packet inspection and everything.

Trust me, you do not want a raptor doing a deep inspection on your packet, if you catch my drift.

Ole Bald Angus the Monk said...

Bah, that ain't nothing that a dozen or so exploding sheep, a couple hundred rolls of duct tape, and some cool music to play for when I have to do the Neo Bullet-time Cartwheels and the Laser Dance and that thing where Tom Cruise hangs upside down from a wire can't fix.

Or I could wage some sort of psychological warfare campaign to corrupt the hearts and minds of the dinosaurs that'll make it easier to drive down into the valley and run the gauntlet in Ex-b's pick-up truck.