Our so-called imaginary readership,
Let us please take a moment to celebrate the cherished anniversary of birth of our dear blog host, our beloved Stewar... wait... in order to protect his online anonymity, I feel I shouldn't divulge his actual name... Our beloved Stewbot (Trunchy to me).
That said, happy birthday Stewbot, fount of the best kind superfluous knowledge that a constantly curious seeker eager to be mildly bewildered through human engagement could possibly encounter on a particular day, and yet also the most perceptive casual observer and wise-word dispenser. Thank you for remaining incorrigibly sane amidst the ever-insistent inane insanity. You're positively daft for maintaining your composure, but I don't blame you. Salubriousness takes precedence over capriciousness.
In short, before I chew my own leg off (figuratively, weirdly), huzzah, my friend, for still being alive so that such an interjection remains possible (or appropriate). And, dear readers, please observe a moment of rowdy abandon today in homage to the continuing life of another vagrant genius in Babylon. Today, his breath is the world's divinity (allowing that he brushes his teeth upon waking).
Feliz cumpleaño, my friend. The resplendency of Barton Springs is nigh.
P.S. Sorry Trunchy, but I intend on making you regret granting me authorship on this page. Oh, yes.
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