Okay, so I don't have 25 peeps, I've got more like two. And they're in the top drawer of my desk, been there since last Easter, but they seem to be holding on pretty good. No green fur yet, maybe a little crisp around the edges but They tell me that Peeps only get better with age.
Like me. *snort*
Welcome, if you're a new passer-by. And if you're an old timer, like me, then know ye by these letters (a, Q, and zed) that I have entered myself into the 25Peeps thing, by which all men (and women, and all those in-between gendered persons) shall know me. You see, it's a traffic whore thing. And since I'm a traffic whore who hasn't got a nice pair of tits to show off, which seems to be the main ticket for getting traffic (from men, no doubt) here, I had to make do with a picture that Vulgar Wizard snapped of me at the tiny village of Yachats, Oregon, a quaint, picturesque town perched on the edge of the Pacific Northwest coast which does double duty as a huge money-sieve. Money and people come in, and po' folk go out.
I'll upload the whole picture, if you want to see what the joke is all about, as soon as Blogger pulls it's technical head out of it's solid-state arse.
So. Keep reading if you like, and if you don't, well hell, at least I got you to click. Yeah, right there. Do it to me one more time. *lol*
If you didn't see 25Peeps on the way in, here's my link you can clicky me on. Be gentle with me, I'm new at this whole clicking thing.
Go ahead, you know you want to.