Unlike you, my soap is shared with my wife instead of another guy. And in our rural home and unhurried lifestyle. Just the same, I want to thank you and your posse for two days of fine entertainment. You guys are the best freaking toys I've ever had. Even better than my old Mattel Fanner 50 cap-firing pistols from back in the day. Without football being in session, I amuse myself with you guys. BECAUSE, I know if I or anyone state something less than adoring praise for your fat boy bedmate, you will get all twisted, bent, and broken. My joy is to see how much I can bend, twist, and break you. You all never disappoint, despite being unimaginative. Still fun, though. Sadly, and to my deep sorrow, I must get back to producing book covers. Naw, not sorrow, it makes me cash, and for doing something I like doing. Still... I will miss poking and prodding you guys with a sharpened hickory stick in every orifice you have. I'd do the same with those smitten with
Bitten too, but they're nowhere near the fun you guys are. Probably due to your cult-like worship of the
Liarindent. So again, thank you pathetic posse of peculiar peasant puppets of a pathological liar for your time, energy, and entertainment.

If this passes over your heads, it's OK, there's a reason for that. You see, I know you believe you understand what you think I said, but I am not sure that you realize that what you heard is not what I meant.