And then the Maximum Leader did a very bad thing...

And then the Maximum Leader did a very bad thing and ALLOWED HIS POET LAUREATE ACCESS TO HIS BLOG.

This normally wouldn't be a problem, since poet laureates are usually found kicking back walruslike in the Turkish spas, sedately peeling grapes and tossing off verse to rapt female page-secretaries (whose price for entry into the spas is their clothing) who record their every word... but I am not just ANY poet laureate, you see.

Think of me more as an excited, incontinent orangutan who's managed, through a series of lucky accidents, to incapacitate the entire bridge crew of the starship Enterprise and is now piloting 400-plus intrepid Starfleet personnel toward the nearest black hole. This is about how I feel, now that I have the ability to write on this blog at will. It's Christmas for the dung-flinging orang! Woo-hoo! We're headed straight for the ass-crack of space-time itself!!

So we've established I'm not entirely sane, and like it that way. In case you need further proof, ask yourself: would a SANE individual provide you with THREE links to his blog, when only one should suffice? Behold:

BigHominid's Hairy Chasms

BigHominid's Hairy Chasms

BigHominid's Hairy Chasms

INSANE, I tell you!

Ah, but I see the captain has reawakened and is shaking off the effects of the stray stun blast that hit him. He looks quite pissed off. Time to make my daring escape! But before I do: I've always wanted to moon the entire Enterprise by putting my bare ass onto every viewscreen-- which I can do from the Captain's Chair! And so I whip off my pants, hit the "all-screens" button, turn around, and... AH-HAAAAAAAAAA!!!

No, wait--

Let-- let GO OF ME--
_