The Party is in

Finally it has happened. After two fortnights of wonky contemplation. The simple thing I have dreaded for ages. Joining a fandom that will eventually reach critical mass and maim itself to death with dead horses, an expression which is most appropriate given the context of a Magic Horse Show. A crazy idea, for sure, but a tad in the realm of good possibility.

Oh well, caution to the wind and bollocks to that!

Were we not insane enough to start something so menial and seemingly meaningless we'd still be playing around with stone clubs and knocking eachothers faces in just to see whose stick is the hardest and biggest... in retrospect, not much has changed. The stone clubs have only changed into schlongs. And tits. Sometimes asses get thrown into the mix and hair, though I will never understand why. It's hair! A mass of organic fibers growing out of your head and/or face! The only way it would be relevant in any way is if you a bearded lady! Or the Wolfman.

But to be fair, I should just wait and see where this road takes me, only silently dreading the day this road ends up like Nixon's career in politics meaning I will cause a huge disaster no one will forget. Ever.

... Blimey, that'd actually be pretty boss. But then my chuffed image would be stuck in a history book along with every tosser in the life span of ever.

LAAAAAAME!

My name is Felicia Shawckross, also sometimes known as Papillon and I hope at least one ape is intelligent enough to know that half of this spiel is a joke or so God help me I'll WRING THAT PONSE BASTA-