Nuffy Returns to Love You

Hello, Dear Reader, and welcome back to me. Up front, please remember that I am Five Times Better than you. Bearing this in mind will make the following proceedings more comprehensible to such as you. This goes especially for our Dear Friends & fellow Blog Posters, Mr. Excremando and Beef Stew.

Well, I have not posted in a long time, and this is due mostly to the disillusionment of Foolishness. The only reason I ever posted on this blog in the first place, Dear Reader, is because I loved you so much. I loved you the way a Papaw loves his glove. I loved you the way a hippopotamus loves murder. I loved you the way a rodeo clown loves internal bleeding. I loved you the way a sentient demi-ape loves world conquest. I loved you the way an oligarchy loves a parade.

But I had to leave for a while so as to attempt to save America from itself. And I failed. Well, more to the point, you failed. You see, America's one hope was a Presidential Candidate from the Hope-Center of America, a man for all seasons named Pip Clowson. He stood for everything that you stand for. He stood for three things: Success, the Future, America. Alas, he was too good for America and America too good for He.

The campaign started off with a nuclear fission of potential. We met in the back room of a book store in a small town and preached hope like a fountain of boiling water gushing from the pipe hole of Saint Benafeld's Broken Hat. But then everything went wrong. Specifically, Pip Clowson died. He died of a Broken Heart. And who broke his heart? You and some other people much like you, Dear Reader.

But even though Pip Clowson isn't around to save America from itself, please do not despair, Dear Blog Perusers. I love you still the way an elderly janitor loves a sip of Pine Sol in the morning. I love you still the way a raccoon loves the fetid liquid that seeps from a garbage bag that has been sitting out in the sun all afternoon. I love you still the way Fatty Arbuckle loved the Automat during Pie and Pudding Hour. Which is to say, I will still work insufferably, hours without end, to save America with my Five Times Better blog posts and ideas. So hang in there. Hang onto the thread of me and let us fly into the Future like two sausages glued to a wall.

We can make it, Dear Reader. Odors intact, we can make it.