...

You know. There's a part of me that sorta wants to ask why my pants aren't fitting any more, why I've been gettin' weird cravings and swollen ankles and the whole nine yards. X-5 genetics do not just up and crap out on me like this.

... So here's the deal.

Have I been impregnated by a hotel?

( A little birdie told me this was a good way to pass the time, so I figured - hey, why not. )

So. Normal gets this invitation in the mail, see, but he’s got all this conspiracy-theorist bullshit running amok in his head right now (he blames Eyes Only. I blame the fact that he was undoubtedly dropped on his head as a baby.) so he decided to send one of his wonderful Jam Pony messengers off to investigate ( Read more... )

Whatever this is. Drop me a line.

(Max 100 characters)

TO:
FROM:
DATE:
SUBJECT:
MESSAGE BODY:

Hey, this is Max. I'm probably off saving the world again or something, but leave a message and I'll hit you back.