This is where I bandy my dandy when I’m feeling intellectually randy.
I’ve been letting humor strangle hardship since 1984 and maintain that we’re all just bumbling bags of intestines on this sweet cesspool of a planet. Things tend to be less complicated that way.
I just discovered that the archaic meaning of Blore, my surname, is “to bleat like an animal.” If that doesn’t give me a license to be absurd, I don’t know what does. Blore’s Razor is also a thing. I promise.
Don’t laugh with me. Don’t laugh at me. Laugh at-with me, and thank you for being so interested.