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	I can still remember the day. The year was 1922; America was booming, the seagull had just been invented, and in music halls up an' down the country a dance known as the funky grandpa was being ignored, because it was an awful, awwwful dance, or so they told me. But I got them back... I fixed them good! Aaaaaaaanyway, I got up on that fateful day and readied myself to head into Shelbyville; I had an appointment there to have my hair re-moulded. See, back in them days, we had no hair gel, 'cause it was all used up in the gelled weasel craze of '57... ah, happy days! So we kept our hair in place with quick dryin' cement. This worked fine, though it did give you skin leprosy. Aaaaaaanyway, I was walkin' down main street, and who should I see butzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ... zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz... zzzzzzzzzzzz.... zzzzzzz... beuuuh?? Where am I? What's going on? What's this page for? Ewwww, this site smells like mustard! There sure are a lota ugly people readin' this! oo,  there's one! And another! What's wrong with you people!!? Aah, forget this, i'm goin' for a drink...

MORE HALF FINISHED RAMBLINGS NEXT MONTH!!!