The Truth Will Out (Eat You)

Until now, I've been kind of mysterious about the Special Training Program that has been taking up so much of my time and hair. I realise it's been a living hell for my many thousands (approximate estimate) of devoted readers , but I think that given that it's now after 6pm on a Wednesday, it could be time to relieve the inner torment and Let the Motherfucking Pussy out of the Box! (SO TO SPEAK, obviously. Like how would they get them in there anyway? Where is a fucking Physicist/Engineer/Packaging Expert when you need one? Fucking off stuffing other people's boxes is my guess, FUCKING LA-DI-DA PUSSY IN BOX STUFFERS) .

(Fuck me when did I get so motherfucking highbrow?)

(My site traffic is going to increase for sures now I have used the phrase "fucking la-di-da pussy in box stuffers"; I would like to extend a Warm Welcome to all the pornies amongst you.)

What was I saying?

(CONCENTRATE, MISTER NORA, YOU ADDLED FUCKING CUNTBRAINED HALFWIT.)

Ohhhhhh, yes. What I'm getting at is that these many months of Studying the Knowledge have all been in aid of me prancing joyously over the corpses of competitors as I dance on to win the Bluffs Run Casino World Smoked Pork Eating Championship!

















Here's Me and the Dude (and also a Live Pork) enjoying my Total Victory!*



Now I'm starting intensive training to ensure triumph in the Swellin' with Melon Watermelon-Eating Championship. I don't call it a job, dudes, I call it a motherfuckin Vocation.

xoxo nora

* Under pressure from Witness Relocation Agents mister nora and The Dude have utilised Full Head and Body Rubber Masks in this photograph. Any resemblence to actual people living or dead is purely a machiavellian conspiracy which will lead to your dreams shattered and your children dead. Cheques will not be honoured.