...so, three nuns walk into a bar...

...you'd think one of 'em woulda ducked, eh?

Ah, but another glorious couple of weeks of fucktardery have passed me by. One is so very proud to be a citizen of the United States these days. I understand our beloved leader, also know as the chimpanzee-in-chief, expressed to a German journalist his desire to see democracy flourish in the Fatherland. How...quaint. One does hope this doesn't mean we will be carpet-bombing them in the near future...

*sigh*.

In eny event, I didn't get up to bloggery simply so that I might bemoan the state of this great Republic, and so I assure you all that I shall not. Unfortunately, I've hardly done or seen anything worthy of note since last I posted, which rather limits my options...you might assume I have some rollicking story concerning the outhouse, a traveling flea circus and my idiot, feral sister up my sleeve, but alas! I have not. Or at least I am ill-prepared to regale you all with that story, as the pain is still so close to the surface. Ow.

I've been writing an epic poem to my truest and deepest beloved, who I fear has rather melodramatically taken up residence in an abandoned mineshaft until such time as I can prove to her my everlasting dedication. Does anyone have any suggestions for something that rhymes with the line "hammer yer creamy white ass like a freight train"?