Are you that special person who - weary from trudging the endless superhighways - just longs to camp next to a glorious oasis of the mind? Do you desire to explore new frontiers, splash in shared ideas, fill your belly with the refreshing fruits of inspiration, and bask in the gentle rays of fond reflection?
Well, you can fuck right off. This, my friends, is not that place. This place is... The ShadowLands.
At the ShadowLands we believe complaining can add meaning to an otherwise meaningless existence. Who needs penpals when you can get some public servant somewhere to send you a form letter? - but truth is, we're still just amateurs...
1 comment:
Anonymous
said...
Ouch! You know when you've been Hildebranded. You can thrash around, moue plaintively, stir up some dust, but the smell of burning fur and skin lingers.
1 comment:
Ouch! You know when you've been Hildebranded. You can thrash around, moue plaintively, stir up some dust, but the smell of burning fur and skin lingers.
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