BETTY SWOLLOCKS...

Let's see how effective the picture is at selling the garbage below.

...is the name of a porn star - I shit you not. What that has to do with ANYTHING is completely beyond me. I just love sharing. Well, almost everything. Some people know about one or two things I don't share.

Like vital information. But if this were a post about sharing - or protecting - vital information, it would have to end right here, wouldn't it.
Instead this is just a post without purpose. A purposeless post. Like Paris or Kim, although I would encourage you to refrain from any bodily fluid emanations in the direction of your screen at this time. The emergency exits are THERE and THERE. Right behind the elbow basher.

So how are you all doing on this fine ass day, with your fine asses? I have a feeling there is going to be some flesh on display all along the Promenade today when I do my best to emulate a jogger without raising suspicion. The runny type, not the silk short type... Summer has seemingly finally got a foot hold and is making the most of it. And speaking of the Promenade, I had the dubious honour of explaining to my colleague what a rent-boy is. We live in a funny ol' world. Funny peculiar, not funny haha. That one belongs to my mother.

Mother jokes with my sister are particularly hysterical.

Another thing that is not funny at all is the way my friend The Ninja Turtle's Mentor makes me feel whenever he picks up a guitar. He makes me feel like giving up. Altogether. The money from the sale of my gear alone could fund a small revolution, but I don't wanna. So I rather fight back the nausea and admire the fretboard wizardry. Which could quite literally leave you dazed, stunned and more than a little uneasy. Catch him at Paul Bothners Claremont this weekend as he imparts some of his knowledge and expertise for those still willing to learn and improve. Or if you just want your face shredded off. Afterwards I'm walking out with his amps, whether he likes it or not. Be there. 11am, Saturday 3rd November. Bring extra socks.

There's mustard from France on my desk.

And that, in my most authentic Porky Pig voice, is all folks.

NGDG: Grow a thick skin, they said. How, they did not say.

Spread The Love. You Could Probably Find Some At The Shack.