The number one danger facing tiny homeowners is bugs. Will bugs take over my tiny house and turn it into some terrible bug den? They will--if you let them. Bugs simply do not respect personal property rights. Seeing a worm pop up out of the ground and tower over your tiny home can be extremely traumatizing.
Welcome back, Cycnus Station Resident! DynaMars Corporation is committed to keeping you updated on all relevant station news. Today's highlights: exciting new holiday protocols, amazing scientific breakthroughs in the field of urination, and a surprise visit from the Lunar City Children's Choir! Please enjoy!
As I noted in my last letter, Mr. Stormbeard's estranged wife returned home. Her arrival sparked a fresh wave of violent, supernatural events. As the couple bickered and argued, the entire neighborhood seemed to quake. This problem has only intensified with the arrival of Scott, Mr. Stormbeard's teenage son and drug addict.
With the economy in the hands of Mos Eisley bandits and your personal finances in ruins, this is going to be a difficult holiday shopping season. Thankfully there is a retailer that not only understands your budgetary restraints, but also respects your delicate and uncompromising sensibilities.
Prior to the invention of modern conveniences such as malls, the Internet, and /pizza, man had to rely on mail-order catalogs to acquire vital supplies. As it happens, my family happened to run one of the most successful of these catalogs, and provided a developing nation with tools, clothes, seeds, and countless other essential items.
By now many of you have read David Thorpe's recent article about me. At the end of his diatribe, he practically begged me to fire back and play his silly games. Instead, I want to write about something positive. Quite simply, David Thorpe is my friend. He's a great guy with a terrific brother. A really, really great brother.
In the annals of history, few men have had as great and lasting an impact on the human condition as Benjamin Franklin. If we were to get specific and name those other few men, they would be Imhotep, Caligula, Robert Oppenheimer, and Jakob Dylan respectively. But this article is not about them. This article is dedicated to Ben Franklin.
Like most human beings occupying this fragile sphere, I am driven by an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. I spend at least 20-30 minutes each day positively yearning for knowledge. And I yearn hard. I presume that you, like me, also yearn a great deal. Thus, I have prepared a hardy sampling of empirical facts for your perusal.
Sit a spell with Rustlr.com, the #1 spot to stop when travelin' along that ol' dusty information supertrail. This week the whole posse heads down to Ramblin' Man, the annual festival that draws thousands of cowboys to the desert for a weekend of celebration, experimentation, and exploration.
You hold in your hands a treasured tome, one second only to His Written Works in reverence and import. The Trappers' Partner Periodical & Catalogue is an indispensible ally to the accomplished trapper and shipper, a venerable publication whose every word betters the human condition and amplifies the greatness of man.
Nobody has seen or heard from North Dakota in weeks. The governor of South Dakota says he has no idea where North Dakota went, but he sounds so guilty when he says it. The politicians and news media all seem too scared to say what everyone is thinking: why does South Dakota look so much bigger on the map? And when did it start bordering Canada?
It's been a week of monstrous sightings for our dedicated star hunters. From London to Hollywood, they bring the goods! Who was the Invisible Man having lunch with? How does Frankenstein deal with a broken heart? A new bromance for Igor??? Find out in this month's Celebrity Stalker!
The fact you have chosen my Honda Civic is quite flattering. And, I must say, you have one-upped me. Whereas I once paid a reasonable price for the vehicle, you have elected to take it for free. Clearly you are a more experienced car shopper than me.
Sit a spell with Rustlr.com, the #1 spot to stop when travelin' along that ol' dusty information supertrail. This week the whole darn town is rustlin' over Chicago Bill's hanging. And what's that no good Mad Bill Boothe tryin' to pull anyway? Find out in today's Rustlr, pardner!
Some three decades ago, a man named Rod MacArthur changed the course of human history. Rod, a relic hunter and skilled forger of false idols, decided to start a company. Soon his enterprise grew into an empire, churning out graven images and demonic artifacts day and night.
Welcome back, Cycnus Station Resident! DynaMars Corporation is committed to keeping you updated on all relevant station news. Today's highlights: fumigation, new station commander, and mandatory relocation to external supply shed. Please enjoy!
Welcome to the newest station in the DynaMars Corporation family! Cycnus Station is a state-of-the-art campus with all the amenities you'd expect back home on Earth -- only here on Mars!
Old age, sore joints and cataracts mean nothing to this tough soldier, still unrelenting in his fight for justice. Even with his mysterious origins, it is all but certain Trotter shares a common history and deadly rivalry with the villainous El Cráneo Negro.
I believe you to be well aware of my ill feelings toward Langall Stormbeard, who resides at 2234 Roaring Elk Drive, the residence immediately adjacent to mine. For the past year I have been writing to complain about his bizarre, troubling, and dangerous behavior. For the past year you have been ignoring me.
Good news loyal trappers and shippers: your faithful commander is back at the helm! As you are probably well aware from prior issues of this publication, I WAS IN A COMATOSE STATE FOR SOME MONTHS, teetering precariously between life and death. I am pleased to report that those days are behind me!
Look, Jerry, you're missing the point. Even if I did block you out intentionally, Jerry, I would have just cause. Living with you is like being trapped in prison with a mad man. Sometimes, Jerry, you look at me with those crazed eyes and I'm not sure whether you're going to rape me or kill me.
I imagine you might try to call in some favors. I imagine the SWAT team right outside, Jerry. They're all out there waiting to bust down the door, swarm in, knock me to the floor, and handcuff my hands behind my back. Then, Jerry, they'll drag me outside as I scream and fight. I'll be screaming your name, Jerry.
When one takes out a contract with an ideal clown, he should feel secure that the contract will be honored. The clown must serve out the edicts of the contract with his life and livelihood as the collateral. Should a clown fail, he must sever a part of his own person as a sacrifice to appease the contractor.
Let it be known that on a recent evening I saw fit to organize a gathering of the St. Louis Fur & Meat Magnates. I, by virtue of my stature, prominence, and renown in both fields, was of course the guest of honor. The other invitees included Mr. A. P. Brown of Brown Fur Amalgamated, and the notorious J. F. Swanton of Swanton Furs.
I was ready to leave anime behind for you, Jerry, but thank God I saw the light! Suddenly I felt like Yukinari being transported to the mystic world of Seiren, and Miharu-chan represented the saving grace that is Japanese animation: the only thing that can touch me without causing pain.