Hello. My name is Palette. You killed my father. Prepare to... oh, I'm terribly sorry, I have the wrong script.
So, um. Yeah.
Look, I'll level with you: I hate introductions. My artistic soul quails at the notion that someone as complex, as sophisticated, as incredibly conceited as myself can be described in a few paragraphs of text, the brilliance of their writing notwithstanding.
I also hate starting to write. That first paragraph has to be perfect, you know? I have to set the tone just right, get everything exact, or else I endlessly fiddle with it and I never get to the good stuff.
Which is why I've decided to skip the beginning entirely and jump straight into the middle. No clumsy wordsmithing like two virgins fumbling around on prom night, oh no! This, THIS is the literary equivalent of you waking up in a seedy motel room after I've slipped you a roofie and had my torrid way with you, a dish of Peking Duck from the local Chinese takeout, and a broomhandle Mauser.
Yes indeed. We're way past introductions, you and I, so you might as well just settle back and relax or else what follows is really going to crease your noodle. And we both know how expensive a good noodle de-creasing costs these days.
Some of you may be wondering what this blog is about.
You poor, benighted fools.
I.... am a literary train wreck. All abooooooooooard!
(cue train whistle noises)
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