My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Some times he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament.
Friday, July 18, 2008
An introduction to mellish
Here it is! The is the inaugural, just getting it started edition of the TWAHT official blogspot.
I have simply just reserved the space, and will be adding to it shortly.
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