What the hell is wrong with you? Yes, you, the insignificant waste of air, that have miraculously manged to type in the URL into the address bar. But wait, you haven’t typed in any URL, you’ve just went to and vomited forth some pseudo-relevant search parameter into your favourite internet “browser” Google.

Your power of internet research, is truly an awesome sight, indeed.

Oh Champion of Bollocks and papier-mache! Oh Commander of vague bestiality and furry webcomics! Oh Padishah of the way, way, way to long incomprehensible insults.

Moving on, or at the very least away from that, we never really move on, we only move slightly to the left, and then we move to a parking garage in the hidden city of Submerged Lincoln.

Does that make sense? Of course not, it is not supposed to, confusion, creature, is the order of the day. And you little maggots will just have to suffer, you read me? SUFFER!

Because? Because? Your suffering? It’ll make yu stronger. The world isn’t some Twilight-esque dreamworld, and you do not look handsome, beautiful or presentable.

At best, you look fat or awkward. And there aren’t any vampires out there, and even if there was, why would they want to have anything to do with some butter encrusted landwhale of a far-arse. Only maniacs have an interested in impulse-weak land-bags. Now go eat a donut, to sate your depression.

And again, off on a tangent, a tangent way off the track. What track?

Oh.

Whoops.