Best Wiest Ever (#42, Crank Glitchstein)
Dear Reavers,
As a man of letters, repute and astute tutelage, I have often hitched my mind’s wagon to that battered ol’ chestnut, “If musings be the food of love, then please don’t call me late for dinner.” And never more appropriately has that withered ole’ niblet of chunky charm tickled the brambles of my perambulatory crevasse.
But let me just dangle this participle, and you can feel free to stick it’s ass on a doily. If musings do indeed be the food of love, then why am I being paid such a meager wage for the mega wattage of my anecdotal payloads? I would think me guilty of gilding the lily with my latest missive exploring the masterwork of controversial author Jasper Birnbaum, but the lily is already made of a fucking ton of gold! It grew out of my fucking brain soil that way! So sue me, moron!
Anyway, hurry up and click on “column” before those simpering schmucks at The Wrestling Team shirk my work to make room for a Funny Fart Soundboard or their new blog about Hermit’s Glands.
Reinwell
Filed by wrestlingteam at April 30th, 2008 under news