Weasels Ripped My Flesh

Apparently, the unimaginative dullards at Man’s Life — not content filling the pages of their rag with scintillating tales of sexy, suburban deviants — have begun to pilfer tales from my own life to entertain the hordes of myopic misanthropes that patronize their dubious ilk. It’s been downhill ever since Mogo the Mugger, erudite caveman extraordinaire, left Man’s Life. Though in all fairness, filling the monstrous shoes of that ill-mannered Lothario is no easy task.

Ectochat: A place for small children [Thanks, Oddessy!]