Dear Sports Fans
Welcome to the no-spellcheck zone. This means I'm sitting in some rathole of an internet cafe and fittingly, this one is in the middle of nowhere. The train is taking a well deserved three hour break after the strenuous two hours it did this morning getting here; as a result I have little to do in place with even less to occupy me. Also, I should have changed my underwear this morning. This is not the time for regrets, however, as it is really a time for celebrations! I'm about to shower you all with page upon page of text, glorious text -- and I just know you've all been salivating, mouths open, waiting for my bounty to rain upon you.
That time is here. And while there's doubtless some horrendous fuckups in this text, I couldn't be bothered holding the other posts to my usual lofty standards. There's a lot of reasons for this, resons that I can't go into here, but if they look a little odd, well, fuck you.
Behold! And anyway, it won't nearly be as bad as that tripe 'John' rolled out. Dude, we have standards here! STANDARDS!
That time is here. And while there's doubtless some horrendous fuckups in this text, I couldn't be bothered holding the other posts to my usual lofty standards. There's a lot of reasons for this, resons that I can't go into here, but if they look a little odd, well, fuck you.
Behold! And anyway, it won't nearly be as bad as that tripe 'John' rolled out. Dude, we have standards here! STANDARDS!





