Tatta's for the posse

And I thought I was full of shite.

Grammarians- unite! and take over!

I, much like Mrs. Kitty Farmer- Donnie Darko's teacher- find myself at a peculiar junction which exiguious other members of this particular blog may lay claim. The intersection of which I speak is that of Browne Towne founder and co-founder of the blog of the same name. While this position does not imbue me with any special powers (Browne Towne Art. 3 "... shall be [egalitarian] in word and deed..") I shan't venture to say that I lack the foresight Browne Towne desires, nay - needs! Modesty aside, I penned the original Port Browne Towne Statement (not the compromised second draft...); delivered our fledgling six-pac from the depths of a bogus civil war, purged RE of spies, traitors (the treacherous t.hylto), dissidents and the opposition; successfully brokered alliances with our neighbors; and victoriously seized and consolidated power to become the first Browne Towne Comptroller . If the instances cited aren't indisputably prescient, then tarnish my legacy, for no guidance could possibly attain loftier standards! Browne Towne! Lend me your ears and I shall give you my heart!
Alas, the famed inelocution of the colored community, in the litany of the white man, has persistently haunted us. How wrong indeed are those perceptions! Base, dark hue, but bright we be! How ill I become, you can imagine, to see members of our own ranks perpetuating this myth. Fie! Twenty anus-kisses shall grace the lips of the offending parties.
I beseech thee and thine own to curb your appetites for the vulgar and the typo. Failing this, I will call for a censure of those who persist, like a plague of damn'd sperm-locusts, to make good use of the spell check function and rudimentary- not to mention courteous- grammar.
Shame on a nigga.

Boogie Woogie!

Boogie Woogie! Brownies! It's the Latin Heat, In the flesh! Browwwwne Towwwwwwwne, Asssssssemmmmbbbblllllllle!

What cu' talkin' bout, Walker?

It's good to know that the esteemed BIGBIGLOADER can take the punch of my flower power with nary a flinch at the extreme sarcasm implicite in my diction. I can once again sleep well during the day, knowing the dragons of literarcy have been slain and the princess' of the mushroom kingdom are safe once again from the twin evils of the dictionary and thesures. In summation, eat a dick.

Brandon is inbound

Ok, everyone, I've invited Brandon to the blog. This means that we aught to be on our best behavoir. We know how easily frightened he can be. Can you remember all the times when, at work, Brandon would walk into a room and immediately sense a sudden movement? He would let out a ear-bloodying yell and then dart out. What motivation is there for the uninitiated to go through the sign in process only to be part of David Hasselhoff's junk? Here is, hopefully, a more inviting picture. Google image search is pretty much the new god.