Light and hearty observations from a fat and ugly guy. Home of hackneyed drivel and ersatz-existentialist effluence. Choleric biliousness a specialty, since 1958.

My confession....

OK, so this worries me.

Over the last few weeks, I've received "feedback" from a few of my loyal shlubbies, who, being regular readers of my drivel and spew, have decided that lately, le postes du Nigel have lacked the certain bite and nastiness they're all so used to experiencing. For this I apologize, but then again: fuck you. That's the main thing.

Here's what's been happening in the Nigel household, and this alone has caused me to alter the tone and tenor of my posts: I have decided to come out of the closet. I am a flaming fucking queer, boys and girls (mostly, boys), a mega shmega dick smoking rump ranging weenie washing turd burgling homo faggott (fa-GOH, in French), , and am thoroughly enamoured with the new-to-me gay lifestyle: buying Cher records, listening to Wham surreptitiously, agreeing that there's nothing really wrong with Barry Manilow, being worried about things like how the curtains look in my boudoir. Etcetera. I am such a girl, and can't wait to meet someone like, say, JFK Jr., who while deceased, was smoking fucking hot when he was breathing and all.

Yes, darlings, I am a dick smoker. I'm out of the fucking closet and am proud of me being a catcher in the pitcher of life. So I can't wait for you comments; I'm bent over and ready to fucking take then, and will ooh and aah appropriately, especially if you look like Andy Garcia. And if you can't handle it, buff my scrotum!!

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 7:19 PM