I know all 2 of you are dying to know what ole Todd’s been up to, so here goes:

A poem that I wrote when I was younger.

Monkey

cold, hard, hairy, tense

Monkey

he has a thought for not himself

but his poop

Monkey

he wishes he had it better

than in this zoo,

people staring

as he eats his poo

Monkey

you wish you WERE him.

I honestly don’t remember writing this, but here it is.

In which our intrepid author shares with you some old crappy writing of his from years ago, comments on it and makes fun of himself.

In this first installment of Blast From The Past, I will share the sordid history of my webzine and some “weekly rants” that I didn’t…

Horatio Tuna

The world is a fiery hellscape right now and our country is probably dying. Let me spin some yarns and entertain you.

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