I write, late this eve (or early this morn, as my current happy proximity to dawn suggests), in sheer, exuberant ecstasy.
In a mere pocket-full of hours, my words shall appear on the #1 region of the internet. My own close friend, idol, and obsession, Mr. Sarah B. Nielson, has agreed--nay, REQUESTED--to a guest post on my behalf.
Ever since I was a wee little Janglet in the locust-ridden corn fields of South Dakota, I have dreamed of naught but this moment -- to step inside the high-heeled footwear of Sarah Nielson for a day and sing my tales to world as she, so eloquently, doth. Now, with my entire life's ambition staring at me expectantly like an innocent, Mongoloid child, I must ask -- what is left to dream in this little old head of mine? What does one do when his life's work has been completed in a matter of months?
Naturally, the next logical steps have all occurred to me. Now that I reside upon her Tales of Wit And Charm, one might equally expect me to move into Nielstein Manor itself, living happily among the RLOs, Daisys, and so have yous of the world.
Yet after then, what? Shall we co-write a weekly newspaper article regarding our own love, dating, and entertainment? Ah, certainly a time will come for this as well.
As surely as the rock I sit on, all of these things will come to pass. But enough speculation; today is not a day of dreams, but of jubilation. With my fathers and mothers watching from below in joyful agony, I feel nothing if not pride. Let the battle cry of all Trollpop ring far and wide, stretching out across the seas in loud, orgasmic joviality!
Ironic indeed that on this Labor Day, we celebrate the pangs of growth, the crowning of achievements, and the birthing of a new and glorious life of Janglestein, Assstein, Wafflestein, Bagelstein, Jinglestein, Volkerstein, and Kriegstein!