Greetings fellow Caricatures of Depravity,
This letter comes to you today, (sunday 4/4/99, Easter) as both a message of explanation and a confession of neglect. Life, being spontaneously distracting and absorbing as life so often is, has all but swallowed my ability to properly maintain this web site in a polite and stimulating manner. Indeed, even this letter had to be sneaked in when no one was looking. Because, you see, this isn't my computer or lab I'm writing to you dear, dear people from. Here's my story:

I was near the completion of a new headless putty monster that would minimize cleaning and storage costs AND double smashing and multifaceted thuggery capabilities when the IRS and the FBI finally pooled all my incongruencies together and had a solid case against me. I don't understand why they chose means so uncivilized but they sent a small S.W.A.T. team down to the lab and smashed all my equipment, freed all my slaves and mutations and handcuffed me at gunpoint. The second vial they smashed was one I'd forgotten about and let fester for 8 months and had been holding some purple substance I swear I've never seen of or heard of before. They didn't have to touch it themselves, their chaotic loud noises popped it like a balloon, the fragile glass seperating uncharacteristically into two equal halves and the Purple (it appeared to be a very fine powder, almost as light as air itself) filled the room like thick smoke. In the confusion I couldn't see the actual defilement these brutes desecrated science with, at least not with any clarity. I remember seeing sparks coming from my main ComputerSlab, the buttons and monitors I'd built painstakingly with my hands in my fledgling days as a Mad caving and cracking in around the axes and shotgun butts. My Venus MeatTrap (a triumph of genericization and anthropomorphic sciences) summersaulting into the elevator, clay pot and all. The Mumble Twins were so disrought they disolved underneath their own acidic tears. I can't believe they're gone. They were like my children I love them so much I can't believe they're gone oh my God WHY'D THOSE BASTARDS HAVE TO KILL MY TWINS????????????????????????????????? I'LL KILL THEM! I HAVE TO KILL THEM TO EQUALIZE MY PAIN WITH THEIRS I can't explain this, I have to leave the topic it's too painful for me, I'm sorry.
ok. I'm back. I took a breather, I'm ok now. Anyway, after seeing, uh.... that, I vowed revenge but my body followed no instruction. I can't properly explain the feeling of total surreal emptiness I felt when I saw my whole world disolve. Everything I knew, all of it just pffft gone. I was in shock worse than I'd been the time I'd cut my left arm off and couldn't remember which machine would re-attatch it. My that was a scary week! Ah, happy times. But I must remain with the task at hand until completion and then I can afford to reminice.
My lab was being destroyed by S.W.A.T. thugs, the air was thick and purple and various random distractions were flying through the air and I saw a window of opportunity. One particularly young looking oaf, maybe in his twenties with a thick neck and a gold wedding band had and appearance that suggested pictures of a blond newlywed wife at home in a small new house with one hand on her fat maternity tummy and a small pony tail in a scrunchie on the top of her youthful, shapely head looking at a cradle catalogue on a tacky blue loveseat with her warm, slippered feet on a tacky, clean, cream colored carpet. Strange how things come to you in times of paril. This idealic, naïve creature, probobally on one of his first missions curiously pushed the last buttons on my putty monster machine and the monster (I name him Charles) ran out of his case, his body finished prematurely before I'd had the chance to finish molding his temperament and education. He ripped the cloth seat off one of my many swivel chairs and wore it like a beret before pounding three officers into the dirt wall like nails. He burrowed into the dirt and I didn't see if he made it out or if he went to the elevator or what happened because the 32 telekenetic butterflies had just been released and were flying around my head. It was just after they'd flown out through the celing that I'd been handcuffed and bruised.