Wednesday, 25 March 2009


Dear Obotophants

It is with great joy that I enter world, unbeknown to me previously, of e-life inhabited by pond life of all different persuasions (even riders of the Dark GS - Steed of the clan McGregor).

I have travelled far - through the darkest Vale of Katoom, via the Rattly Camchain of Sea-ecks, even venturing through the beard infested and foul smelling Flatwin of Bavaria. As the mists of Winter, slowly transform into the mists of Spring and blossom almost indistinguishably into the downpour of summer, we gird our loins for the epic journey into the clouds of midges on the Skyle of Iye. For, once we have rid ourselves of the strange redskin inhabitants, we will inhabit their wigwams and smoke the pipe of peace over their mangled remains! How civilisation must be brought to these savages through torture and pain!!

Alas, I must away!! For it now time to search the dreaded Tin't'erweb for the sacred relics of the Handguards of Stelvio and the Crashbars of Hepco. May I be fruitful we can display the relics on my steed on the 19th day of June in the year of our Lord MMIX.

Obotulance to you, my trusty companions. Hail to Sobat the Consumer of Deauchars.

Your obedient and trusted servant,
The Grand Mahout

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