What are you doing in my house?
I am your computer.
Thanks for joining us. I'm broadcasting from ALILBTDII studios, my squalid bedroom, at the late hour of 2:44 am in nothing but my underwear which my stomach is sagging over ever so gently. So press a nostril and snuff up some of the fairy-dust in the air; this evening will be enchanting.
Actually I'm thinking of going to bed soon, lured by the French supermen I found in my basement. No, those aren't my new lovers! Don't get jealous ladies, you perverts!
I'm talking about these old superman comics I found in my basement from France, "Superman Poche!", which means, "superman you can fit in your pocket!" The French is dumb enough for me to understand and actually, they read better en francais. Kal-el dooms the Kryptonian outlaws to "l'eternite dan le zone phantom!" His last journal entry: "Journal de Jor-El 67 Eorx 9999, 'un monde est mort!'"
But really what's important?
The important thing is that we've pushed that high class broad named A Lesson is Learned but the Damage is Irreversible out on the streets to fend for herself. Her pearl necklace in her hands, her evening dress unkempt, a stocking torn, and heel tipped over, and I am speeding away in my expensive car. That's right. With the fourth comic, we've decided it's time to show our site to other people who are not people on the site already. I hope if you are reading this you are a complete stranger to me or at least a friend who has
never seen this before; and you're like, "wow, Dale, you're the belt on my slack".
There will be a new comic every week, and they will get better and better until your brain bursts in to flames ferociously since we have opened the secret door to your most ardent desires by way of subtle craft. No, no promises. Not yet. Just shove the nose of your mouse in to that special place that says "bookmarks", dust off your yearbooks, and tell everybody you ever knew ever.
Alright cut it out.
Shall we discuss politics?
When I get drafted to defend the spice-mines of Arrakis-- I’m not very big, maybe 5’7’’, so I want to pilot a machine that I slide snugly into, like a tank or some sort of mobile destroyer, where I squeeze right between the cogs, a perfect fit. Naw, I’m jes’ messin with ya! I’ll probably mutilate myself, since I could never bear to kill another human being. Just kidding again! I’ll be sipping champagne in my stretch limo hot tub, riding through the warm night air, letting the bubbles run up my back, watching it all unfold on the
tv. What a miracle! We might even stop at taco bell.
" -Voici une carte du ciel! Elle vous indique une planete du systeme solaire appelee terre!
-Comment vous remercier Jor-El?"
--un morceau de "Orphelin des Etoiles"