Frank Marino & Mahogany Rush...great 70's psychedelic rockers
Schuyler Worthington, your new guide to the world of fine fiction
Skunkville now yer guide to the World of Weirdness & Weird dress & Weird messes
Paralel Piped aka 'Pipehead' used to contain Universe
Hello, ladies & gentlemen, as swell as select boys & girls (i.e., bobhopefully well-mannered good-listeners and over age 15 1/2 -- and if not -- hopefully accompianoed by a parent, teacher, preacher, or older/wiser siblink or pianist....(to steer or 'play' them back in the right direction, e.g., Barbie Magazine, Wiffleball Stars Digest, anything associated with Chief Loving Kindness or Mary Mary Never Yet Contrary!
Regular readers of elderly, doddering, basically harmless & perennially good-natured Mr. Walter Brown's epic and ground-breaking asswell as sweat-natured comedyrama, The Skunkville Saga.... But before you do, our good friend & advisor justin Case would say: 'Have your parents read the section of Skunkville Saga the child intends to read FIRST, often the beginning chapter, then they can read it only if your mind can fairily say: 'Go ahead, it's no werse then the shxt (rxcuse me! typo alert)...I meant to say it's no warse than the crap that seems to have just fallen straight out of the craphole that you wutch on TV!!!, Sparky!
' (Now...for a male child), you can use the same wording exscept use ''Buttercup' to address a female child, also replacing the 'crxp' reference with the less vulgar and more ladylike 'plopple' for your belov-ed, dainty, field-hockey-playing distaff children!'
At this juncture in the proceedings, please allow me to introduce myself, as a person generally and gentlemanly known as Skylar Worthington IV Esq. ...I'm a man of great academic experience in the world of epic fiction.... and thus well-pre-parroted to be YOUR (butnut necessarily uther less fortunato readers) regular host for this and all future Skunkville episodes.... if I am lucky enuff to have that grande'-sized pleazure (and am not quickly & summarily fired by you in a blog reader protest action or fired by authorial autocrat Walt Brown) or Delmer Phillips, acting Pesident of the Blahhggh Divizion of Delphi Forump and/ or any of ther Delphi Forump execs for some baseless as a rolling globe raisin d'etre..... All this Starting with today's thrilling, mind-boghole-ing or some might say slightly less enthusiastickily, this mind-bunghole-ing episode!
Feel free to reach me at Skylar Worthington at any time of the day or night via yahoo.com..... with any questions, concerns, cumplainants, or other commints.... The spicier, the dicier, the sweeter, the fleeter, the more mouth-watering the better as I am an individual who thrives on challenge and controversy and personal attacks!!
I'll read them all, some of them multiple times if they tickle my fancy or cause my temperature to rise.....Skunkville readers frum around the world as well as 'intelligent aliens' (terribly derogatory description of our fellow sentient races in the universe that regularly cruise Earth's Internet, seeking opportunities for jobs, new ideas for their own worlds, and for many of whom we bug-eyed believe are much heavier & more devoted readers of Skunkville than the lightweight, media-choked bipedile Earthlings!) ....While threw-out the perhaps slightly less discerning, more media-starved domainus beyondus there is noisy, rowdy rejoicing when'ere Mr. Brown releases still another clanking, backfiring stinkler (in the eyes of earthlingks, anyhow) of an episode, apparently aided much more than we ever realized by Edna's WPOV in the creative process as swell as her lucious figure and spicy cooking -- which gives Walt his terrific get up and go.....to a-go-go (Walt, rising quickly frum the dinner table... 'excuse me, dear, I forgot I need to get goin' a GO-GO!!') ahs quickly ahs possible to the 'go-go' OR 'head' to unload his blatter or werset...
Some alien authors-to-be copying our copyrided episodes werd by werd in their LaN9w!d9e and also burrowing Walt's (actually a team of talonted professionals, with Walt offering occasional unwanted advize, which we the reel riters on the sturm usualerly ignore...threatening, brandishing serious weaponry, staplers, shoes, empty beer bottuls, paper weights, etc., finally backing & packing Walt off and soon out of the heavy metal inpenetrouble...We, the new writing squadron,, the 73rd batallion to try this most miserable pussible writing jib, trying to mimic to a silk degree Walt's idiotsyncrackpotic stile in order nut to lose the loyal readers while gaining millions, nay perchance billions of new ones counting Earth plus the rest of the Univverse as well as infinitude of Parallelpiped Universes -- so as to maximize revenue and up our own take home maybe 10%-20% max -- anyhow, frenetic, stomach-churning werk, always fearing ztill anuther episode where less than five readers show up in a long week.... 2 or 3 of those immediately leaping up onto the Web to alert the whirled to AVOID SKUNKVILLE EPISODE XXXX at any and/or all Bob Costas's .....
But we canine't foreget the gamy but still bright +significans+ of the dowderly couples' two, married, English- & Freshnch speaking, pro-world-trade and voters' rights daschunds, Fiddles (clean-cut, ambitious, go-getter <of thet ball!> male) and lovely, alluring Piddles (...probably just a nip sharper and more resourceful than her more acrowbiotic pardner Fiddles).
The Skunkville Saga (or Sogga, so say, frum those who find it consistently bogged down in trivia and in-jokes where no one who reads it is in the targeted In Crowd...the story Walter-logged by an enormously old male writer, the resilient but never silent Walt Brown) has been running in these pages for nearly a decadent (a very short deckaid) , as fur as elderly Wult kin rememberotate, putting a big, ugly dent into the practices and ground rules of the fickshun publishing world and fickshun arena and fickshun community, etc..... Hundreds of thousands (hordes) of readers (actually, have swarmed like insatiable aunts to the free yet priceless readers' seats in the arena where comfortable, effortless, relaxing reading of the blog is near-guaran-durn-teed. As you enter the reading modess, a spot will be found for you, whitch you kin call yer owned.... located on the ground floor of neuvo-Realite', near to the base of the silent escalator to higher levels of elightenment, which you may want to explore after finishing the entirety of Skunkville, and then maybe studying it a 2nd or 3rd time to make sure you have absorbed all its wizdumb and whackdim....
Your starting reading hyper-location may be muddy & littered with stray thoughts from all the mental foot traffic into the reading stadium and the recent overflow problems affecting the handful of poorly maintained outdoor-like mental bathroom accomode-dayshuns.... In this Grande'
Reading Staidiump where all Searsious readers mentallyconverge & gather & reestablish their identity and marked superiority over all non-visitors, like, say, yer Uncle Behemoth..... You and yer reading acquaintances quaintilly nodding to other readers whom they have met here before, or after... perhaps even winky-dinking at a member of their preferred romantick gender whom they have seen on other visits to this blahgghghgh-guk! (kof! kof! gaaagggghh....excuse 'kof' me 'kof' stadium 'kof'-'kof'' concessions 'kof' 'urghk...whoops...man...But mighten I be Mable to convincet you.. 'kof'-'kof''...mighten you 'volkof'-'volkof'' to provide me with my usually boiled weiner and a perky sparkling glassette of water that I normally poach off you at a dizcountrate of 73 1/2 centavo grandos???'
Gruff cpncessions man, thumping hard on yer tiny, tinny reading desk: 'I'll make no concessions to ye whatesoinever...ye hearest me clearestly!!??'
Shaking his head, the impertinent reader, having ridden all the way here through cyberspace via his budget PC: 'How would you like to 'hear' a hard knee to the groinem??'
Gruff cpncessions man: 'I'll make no concessions to ye whatesoinever... Except THIS ONE....'
...which happens to be a hard, greasy knee to the groinex of the reader.... Leaving him moaning in the busy aisle of the Blog-Viewing Stadioum.
So I, the writer, say to the reader next to me -- not you -- but well, another guy frum yer state, but I don't think ye yet knowl him.... seaminkly an ordinary Joe or Horacio, 'Let's take 'em down!'...My eyes gleaming with savagery!
Reader B, flashing me his Playpoy Police-Spacial-Forcepts Card: 'Sorry, buddy, you're under-arm-ed arrestled,,,, Let me check those pits RIGHT NOWEL!! (He places a sophisticated gasmask, which hides yer ID from sentient gasses that want to steal or at least put a squeeze on yer identitty... Then snarls: 'Raise yer hands high before I do the Heinylick procedure on yer pits!!'
Me: 'Hey... hands off... I'm a writer covering up this storry here todayl,,,,' So I flips open me fake press prudentials heh heh heh....
Social Insecurity Guward 'You dumb schnit! What do I care about a beat-up Monopolly GET OUT OF JAIL FREE cardoni???'
WHACK~ SMACK! SWOCK*** CRACK@@ KRRRUSSHHHHH&&!!!@@
I raise my aright arm to make the STOP sign.....his blackjack stops maybe one silly milimeter shorter of mine facet....
Whut in Richie Havens sakey is my wifle going to say about THISSET JAMBONI!?!?