I have sensed a disturbance in the Force.
Descending from the Fortress of Solitude I have made my way to the Lair of the AntiChrist and survived intial contact.
Wild Turkey helped.
'Pon the eve two nights past I beheld two lites approaching as if borne by the breeze.
The silouette behind them opened to reveal the Wizard of the Western Arc, come for (finally! the much hoped-for conclave.
Luckily, I was armed with the appropriate elixor.
Amazingly, my decrepit automobile carried me without incident from my home in Denver to the Great North ( read: Hell and Gone) and safely to the abode of j2k4, where a thorough CAT scan was administered ( believe it or not, this paragon of Republican heartlessness has a decided weakness for felines....go figure). The lovely "She Who Must Be Obeyed" was already abed, but we have since met and I haven't yet been banished, so the stage was set for a much anticipated corporeal meeting.
It is odd to finally met, face to face, a cyber-voice you have come to know solely on the interweb. Preconceptions are tough to ignore, but surprisingly, mine weren't that far off.
He really is the ogre you all imagine....
A thoroughly urbane and debonair gentleman emerged from the transport cocoon, but appeared to be momentarly shaken...
I wondered how my appearance would be countenanced (my slobbering, sniffing and snorting puts some people off); my western adjunct froze momentarily (I could swear I heard him utter the words: Hobbes-save me...!
As help was not forthcoming, he steeled himself, fixed me with his steady gaze, and thrust out his hand:
Hi-name's Clocker, sir.
I believe I have an reservation at the inn?
Within a short time, we were comfortably ensconced, each with a tumbler of the firey mixture in hand, fervently solving the troublesome problems vexing man.
We have, at this juncture, disposed of exactly 57% of them, and are weighing the efficacy of leaving some of the work for others, 'cuz we need more booze.
Accomodations are pleasingly warm and welcoming ( provided one can ignore the cruelly rendered corpses of Liberals and flabby thinkers that litter the immediate surround...and the Shrine of Ann Coulter is a bit garish for my taste, but one adapts...) and a grand time has been had.
We are staring at the dregs of the bottle however, a situation that demands immediate rectification.
So adieu for now, we shall continue soon....