An Introduction and Enticement to The Strange in the Manner of Deadwood

Let me tell you of my load, friends. If ears can hear and eyes can see, it shall be made plain as daylight, the first morning of spring, and my load will become yours. And in joy we shall walk down the road together, sharing this load.

Simply put: I do not believe that true vulgarity lies in the strange but rather in what some cocksuckers would like to call “polite society”—though if one were to take one solitary minute to assess the situation, one would see that society as such ain’t all that fucking polite any more. The ballroom is now a barroom.

Let me explain to undisturbed minds the new dance we’re in: some persons find such turns of phrase as “ugly clown penis” to be discourteous, repulsive, of a low and distasteful humor. I, on the contrary, think such things fucking hilarious. In turn, of my stance on the words, such superior folks that would find the phrase repellent find my honoring the phrase even worse than the utterance itself.

So if you’re one of these upstanding and righteous citizens—be you a slithery, bunko cocksucker with a Bible in one hand and sinful acres in the other, or a pretentious, ineffectual cocksucker who holds everybody’s opinions except his own, or even some dumb fuck who can’t resolve himself on anything beyond the threshold of his shower curtain—I want nothing to do with you. This place is not for you.

But if one feels, somehow, otherwise, if one’s brainworks are open to the possibility of a smile, if one’s inclination is to laugh, heartily or soft, come in. As William fucking Shakespeare said: “Motley’s the only wear.”