So if and when I find time for myself and a book of rant to vomit out onto these sacred tubes, I will. Until then, enjoy the ones who bring it like it ought to be brought. Bone up on the choice cuts with The Brainsturbator. Then wash it down with some comedic blasphemy by Flumadiddle.

Rants and ramblings of an antipodean hack. Sunday, January 12, 2003. There are roosters and there are owls. Both know that a new dawn is coming, but they herald it in differing ways. The owls watch, wait and worry. The roosters yell, scratch and scream. The new dawn is coming, when the old gods are going to be drawn into the final battle, and the only question right now, in the small hopurs of a hot summer morning, is.

In the dead of winter one might be a potential flower. But that part of the cycle is also just fine for the Immaculate Conception. She was very generous in her compliments, but not to be outdone by our Lady, who knows how to encourage us even more, having us collect such things in good friendship with her Son. We give the flowers to Him to give to her.