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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.

Monday, January 12, 2009


I am not sure what this story from the Bhutan Observer is about, but the introductory paragraph is a front-runner for lead-in of the year.


Egg said...

John Holmes?

blogstrop said...

"... she reacted quickly and her hand slapped his face. The fork she was holding pierced his lascivious lolling tongue. Ever since he has spoken with forked tongue.
Women of the region deny that vaginas are crooked, but agree that they sit on a goldmine which must be approached obliquely."