|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
This
is all mostly my fault. And it all started
out innocently enough (like
it always does), and with the best
intentions (like they always are),
but things have just gone horribly wrong (like
they always do). Honestly, kids,
it's all a put on. Real men-n-wimmen can
watch these atrocities stone-cold-sober.
BUT! The booze sure helps you to forget
them the next day! As to how and, more
importantly, why? Click
here. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Evil
kitten I rescued from a road ditch and
circling chicken hawk, whose been
tormenting me ever since by defying all
feline logic; she's a water rat and a
complete klutz, convincing me she's either
an extraterrestrial or possibly some kind
of squirrel/skunk hybrid. Want to know why
I don't update very often? Could it be her
insistence to sit on the keyboard while
I'm trying to type? And for godsakes
don't look into her eyes! |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Brother,
man! The man. The myth. The legend. And our
guest reviewer extraordinaire. Yes a man
of mystery whose legend threatens to
eclipse that of the Foulke Monster, and
only continues to grow.
(Still waiting on that review of Spice
World,
though.) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The
collected works of Ted V. Mikels. |
|
|
|
And
whatever The
New Yorker
likes 'cuz dem folks is brilliant. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
My
boy, my boy! A good drinking buddy and
fellow Elvis enthusiast, he keeps me
honest, points out my mistakes and is the
closest thing we have to an editor around
these here parts. When I answer his calls,
that is. Much appreciated, partner. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
