Rhymes with The Norseman, dig? Anyways, this is all mostly my fault. And it all started out innocently enough -- like it always does, and with the best intentions -- like they always are, but things have just gone horribly wrong -- like they always do. Honestly, kids, it's all a put on. Real men-n-wimmen can watch these atrocities stone-cold-sober. BUT! The booze sure helps you to forget them the next day! As to how and, more importantly, why? Click here.

Evil kitten rescued from a road ditch and circling chicken hawk, who has been tormenting me ever since by defying all feline logic. A water rat and a complete klutz, this "cat" has convinced me she's either an extraterrestrial or possibly some kind of squirrel / skunk hybrid. Want to know why I don't update very often? Could it be her insistence to sit on the keyboard while I'm trying to type? And for godsakes don't look into her eyes!

Brother! The man. The myth. The legend. And our guest reviewer extraordinaire. Yes, a man of mystery whose legend threatens to eclipse that of the Foulke Monster, and only continues to grow. (Still waiting on that review of Spice World, though.)

My boy, my boy! A good drinking buddy and fellow Elvis enthusiast, this cat keeps me honest, points out my mistakes, and is the closest thing we have to an editor around these here parts. When I answer his calls, that is. Much appreciated, partner.