While reading this lunatic post please be advised that it’s just good humor!  Do I even have to say it, please, he knows…  I like totally forewarned him.

Dear Keeper of the Heathen Blogosphere, 

You’re giving me a complex (insert bullshit mirth)… no seriously, you are!  Thanks a lot my cyber-commenting friend!  But for this particular blogosphere snippet, I promise not to use any enormously gigantical, difficult to understand words like profligacy, transmogrifying, aberrance, female, or probability density function.  I’ll jargonize the whole damn thing and write only random crap and useless rants.  I mean, if it weren’t for this seductive little minibar cradled lovingly beside me…  I might not have the gumption to write this blahbarian rubbish at all!  

So what if I have an extensive vocabulary!  I know, I know… you prefer more colorful terminology, unadulterated (um) sketches, and (gasp) football.  But I confess that your slighty cocky/mannish perceptions, quite comparable to ohhh I don’t know, Napoleon (and I don’t mean Dynamite), seem to cause quite the unruly fascination.   

Damn it!  Apparently, you are bringing sexy back, double damn it!  But seriously, I’m about to blog-punch you in the face for this definition: Batshit crazy lunatic person for no good reason.

So you dance with brooms and vlog it to the masses… what’s next… America’s Best Dance Crew?  Dancing With The Stars? 

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot! 

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