You will find here a bleat-no-blog because, like many electronic pages of pulpy prose that you can find on this fairy organ we propose to call a net, its content will have absolutely no baring, relevance or impact upon your lives.
As such you will have done well to ignore it altogether.
However you may wish to find here vagaries and rhymes from an aged' goat who sits by the cathode fire frying up some fish in butter, setting his cheese to the block and tending to his scattered flock of thoughts while drinking a few drops of porto wine.
Cheepishly yours,
The awe sir,
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Pan Braindead Pan - The Straight Dope Across the MachineScape
Thoughts, poems and prose from the builders of an artful machine.
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