That's Moi, Author Walt Brown after all our troubles
Clex Faxl 2
WHAT GOES AROUND....
'OMG!! IT'S CLEG FAXL!!!'
We know that the problems at Delphi have made it hard for us Delphi-located blog writers these last few days... but probably 100's of times more troubling for the Delphi personnel dealing with these kinds of treacherous, complicated, convoluted, labyrinthian, Babybalonian Internet trubble-shooting situations. Therefore, I, as Walt Brown, author of the vast and towering and magnificent Skunkville Saga, the Literary Marvel (comicbook?) of the 3rd Millenium hereby apologize to Delphi Forums and its readers for all my whining & demanding cumplaints and impatiences ....and to my wife for my incontiveniences..... I will duly try to remember, like a true American, that my Country comes first -- not our hemispehere, our continent, our time zone, or even our sneaky allies, or our incovenialances, or physical or verbal incontinences ..... Now, as far as Planet Earth, I would say that we might consider it to supersede even America in our priorities, as its total destruction would de facto include America, unless we somehow managed to safely fire just our 50 or so states (along with mebbe ten miles deep worth of underlying geological slab/slag/subcrud/sand/buried-trash/communities of near-surface subterranians who were planning to come up and out of their deep closet in the near futchure, asswell as the constantly dwindling holdings of the Compressed Civilizations, and the Compressed Sub-Civilizations, i.e., snake people who writhe through millions of miles of underground passageways to vizit one anuther, take their kids to underground schools, visit the shopping moles, buy & live on Subway Sandwiches, work constantly on their underground breathing & positive thinking exercises, and generally learning of every imaginable kind of subject, even about Lenape Park, since above-surface living has been denied them by the surface countries on the basis that the above-surface conditions closely match those of the below-surface save for the fresh breezes and puffy clouds and clear blue skies and gentle rain & soft, sparkly snow storms, and the glaring stars at night and endless planes soaring in all directions to every point on the vast global surface...while the fortunate, heavily protected sub-surface Subways People are protected from falling stars and metiors, plane crashes, any kind of bomb or poison dropped or dripped from the sky, etc.... Save those that are powerful enough to penetrate Earth's confident-seeming, tough-axxed surface crust....It's earthy/rocky/rooty/wateryconcretyvolcanicky,muddy,stabilizing understructure.....,
While some surface people who, perhaps members of, or descendents of prior underground occupants, dream of finding a safe, steady, comfortable, not-too-crowded, not too superficial (e.g., a mere piddling 200 feet below ground) microplacedeep but not too deep to abruptly downsize the U.S. and our individual selves into a scale where the Earth, at least temporarily. could continue to be used for human, sub-human, and super-human existence and temporary safe-keeping .....until the hoped for Infinite Space Bus, a God-Like/ralph-kramden-like figure in uniform at the wheel predicted both in the xxxx xxxx issue of Sierra Madre' Comic Book and the 1943 tissue of Strange Weird Science Fiction of finally arives ... in say President Trump's undertrumpks ..... Because of course, in temporary passenger-size reduction mode we may need gravely fear even the seemingly Megasaurus sized Spyder or fly!
But of corset, I am binding myself too tightly by girdling myself with these anxiety-squeezing-out pimple-popping thots of the Dreary End Times, when people will simply sit in fellowship with all others frum arounded the glob to comiserate and perhaps jointly enjoy some famous Endtimens Bread!!
So we will now try to return to where we more or less were in the vast 2-million-word New American Myth we call The Skunkville Saga, and proceed as if nothing of any importance really happened.... Certainly no true 'Disturbance in the Force' or even fart-ripple in the bathtub when all may be said and done!
If you would so kind as to turn your readerly eye to the left side of the Skunkville Bllaagghh's opening page, you will notice a series of pictures....Drawn indeed from earlier episodes so as to relax readers and writers and make them feel 'centered' again.... Yes, 'centered'....right where the next attack is most likely.... NEVERMIND THAT NOEL COWARDLY NONSENSE!!
The first painting showing the disturbed-looking old man in an obviously bewildered state is in fact an attempt to capture my, Walt Brown's authorly terror and related exhaustion during this period of (to me) immense uncertainty. It seemed as if my own safe little microcosm where I can creep & crawl away from the threats & responsibilities & terrors of the Real World had suddenly been closed off from me.... My safe harbor had was now full of enemy forces with unknown super-POWers!!
In the 2nd picture is Clex Faxl, above the picture of a typically hysterical group of his female admirers our fearless friend who once held a low-level laborer's job in tough-guy Perth Amboy NJ, one time the Pollution Champion of the U.S. due to its seeming monopoly onEast Coast oil refinering... a gritty little city ironically frum witch you could quickly escape the worst of the poisonous vapors...it being an easy commuter train ride to grungy Life Insurance Company graveyard, Newark NJ... or even within anuther 10-20 minnuts,ritzy, glitzy downtown Manhatten.
But Clex would often take a break away from his urban world to visit us here in Skunkville. back in the old days of the Late 20th Century, swimming through the polluted network of rivers for exercise and of course to save money and take a personal check on the water pollution situation in the NorthEast, which he would dutifully and accurately report to the relevant Water Authorities....
Today, Clex phoned the Browns to say that he was on his way and would soon be at our sides.... The Browns, that is, including first but least myself, Wallet Brown, whom I believe to still be elderly, foolish, but at times heroic & inspired Walt Brown.....And also of course perhaps more importantly to spend some quality time with my gorgeous wife of decades beyond mere counting, the still sizzling hot Edna Brown, the hearthrob of of liberally uncounted yearning men... and even a cadre of New Age, Why Not? women whom appreciate beauty regardless of silly gender or species labeling! Also on the receiving end of the Clex visit would be veteran male daschound Fiddles, along with his lovely, heavily howled after, daschound wife, Piddles... Both of whom speak English far better than I can in my worndown, befeebled, befuddled state of -- NOhio...Wait! I meant to say....OhiO... Universally recognized as The Tired State, as clearly and wisely indicated by the tyrO's on the front and the back of the name of the state. It is the Tired State for many reasons, one being the fact that most truckers passing through Ohio are carrying useful, fun, luxurious, expensive goodies either to the rich East Coast or the richer West (or Wasted) Coast!! Tire Capital of the Known Universe, Akron, is known, perhaps anAkronistically, since Ohio does have numerous other worthy or warty industries besides the fact that huge foreign tire breeding grounds now exist....
In the final vinyl pickshure is a likeness of my long time idol and friend, Clex Faxl. Clex is a handsome man of action who is so attractive that about every tenth car that passes him at any time when he is visible frum the road and is driven by a female, regardless of other passengers (e.g., dogs, iguanas, males, females, kids) will pull over and ask him if he 'needs a lift'! Now, muscular buscado Clex...if he is really thirsty or faint from the dozens of miles he has hoofed that day....will accept the ride....providing he can ride in the back seat AND that there are NO females in that back seat NOR WILL THERE BE, i.e., frontseat females choosing to abruptly ransfer to the backseat once Clex is in that zone.
This is simply to protect the females in the vehicle from the risk of immediately falling madly in love with Clex Faxl and then doggedly trying to pantingly corner Clex in that enclosed area..... Now, Clex's incredible muscular strength and quick-dissolving, tasty Fizzie-cal dexterity and fertility, aswell as his aspect ratio and flashes of asperity mixed with fawning humility and irksome retreats into navil o-ranges of tart introjection make him a phenomenally complex....Any woman who -- against his advisory and accompanying glowers -- climbs over the front seat to get Clex to 'cornered' will find that task to be exhausting no matter how small the back seat area is.... Clex occasionally having to dive out the back window and then barrel-roll, veering wildly to avoid the wheels bearing down on him as he also tries to maneuver in a way that does not cause any unsightly highway accidents which might then be blamed on him...suddenly then re-emerging as the driver of the vehicle, with the prior driver finding themselves suddenly staring out a back seat window wondering what happened when the whole werld seemed to go toxy turby...then settles in and enjoys the backseat view as the vehicle now surges gracefully at a speed multipills of its Prior's speed when he used to drive a similar vehicle at thw Monasterium....
Now, despittal the crazy manoevering Of courset, Clex is not the least bit fazed or concerned... Only the health, happiness, and welfare of everyone on the highway...including those in the vehickle which he just evacuated & the one he is now again driving!