Greetings from MIKE the VIKING, amidst the smoldering ruins of Apocalympia. I hope your summer has been full of rapings and meatstuffs, or, for the veg amongst you, gropings and bean curds.
We are well. Which is to say, your trusted captain has developed an inordinate fondness for the bicephalic horror of the F-book and the hipstergram. By Odin’s great unwashed eye-socket, it boils my beard. I suffer as you suffer; the postage of the angers used to brighten my days like the light of a thousand burning englishmen.
It can’t be helped. She’s computing through the smart phone these days. And the purpose of a smart phone is to do dumb things faster. Since the BURGER of ANGER is not dumb, the phone is no help.
It is my fondest wish that the great and wise and cantankerous one will once again take up this heavy mantle, but until that day, I will send to you word of our adventures, perhaps of sackings, perhaps of knittings, certainly of tankings, like postcards from the end of the world.
Coming soon: the jaw-moistening legend of Jjarlepjnir-Maek, as told by MIKE the VIKING
September 4th, 2012 | Uncategorized