Face-Melting Terror!

Hello. Welcome back. It's great to see you again. How have you been? I'm doing great, actually. Things around here have changed somewhat, but I think these changes are for the better, really. I don't want you to get the wrong idea and think I'm transforming this into some sort of pornographic archive, because that's simply not going to happen. You're never going to see any images of penetration on this blog, or anything terribly explicit, for that matter. There are plenty of other places on the internet for you to get your rocks off, and this will never be one of them.

The only reason why I've officially classified this blog as NSFW is because I want to continue doing what I'm doing here without fear of Blogger deleting my account, which was becoming a very real possibility before last week. Yes, I apparently do care, at least a little bit. I've been doing this blogging shit for nearly five years, and I've become slightly attached to The Book Of Lies, despite what anybody else thinks. I'm also slightly attached to photos of nude and semi-nude women, which is why things are the way they are now.

It's the best of both worlds! I can continue to ramble on and on about topics that interest nobody but myself, share podcasts in which I ramble drunkenly about topics that interest nobody but myself, and share numerous images of lovely ladies in various states of undress for the foreseeable future, and there's nothing you handful of butthurt readers can do about it! It's not my fault you expected to find something worthwhile on this pathetic excuse for a blog!

Every single time some clueless asshole stumbles across this forgotten little corner of the web and can't help but bitch about how much I suck and how worthless my podcasts are and how disgusting and/or flat out wrong my opinions are or how offended they are by the sight of a woman's bare breasts, it makes me happy. Your unhappiness fuels my misanthropic engine, and it just encourages me to keep doing whatever it is I'm doing.

Don't get me wrong; I truly do appreciate the maybe five or six people that seem to genuinely enjoy the content here, and I hope you stick around because aside from a few cosmetic differences, nothing's really changed. I'm trying to entertain here, but my intended audience can be counted on one hand with an outstretched middle finger to spare, so your opinions don't really register beyond a superficial level. The folks I've set out to entertain with this blog are, in fact, entertained, so I have no reason to change in order to appease a potential audience of literally dozens.

The Book Of Lies was never going to set the internet on fire, and I never wanted it to. I don't get to see my friends as often as I would like, and the future is just going to make our face-to-face meetings even more infrequent, so this blog exists as an attempt to make my friends smile every now and then. If you, Dear Imaginary Reader, enjoy it as well, then that's just a bonus, but I'm not doing any of this for you. I'm doing it for the shorties, and the shorties love boobs, so who am I to deny the shorties what they desire most?

Speaking of boobs, it's time to podcast! Yes, I am pleased to present to you the latest two chapters of Reform School Smut Peddler! But why, you aren't asking, is this happening now? Isn't the podcast on a bi-weekly schedule? And yes, I do normally attempt to maintain a bi-weekly schedule, but throughout the duration of our ongoing TV Trivia Death Match, I've decided to pump out the podcast weekly, with two rounds presented each Wednesday. Below, you will find rounds three and four of our exciting struggle for ultimate useless knowledge supremacy. You're welcome:

Chapter 56: TV Trivia Death Match, Round Three



Chapter 57: TV Trivia Death Match, Round Four



That's it for this week, I guess. All that remains is to remind you once again of the links you will find on the right, leading to our official Tumblr stream, Twitter feed, YouTube channel, and official podcast home pages. Now I'm going to go sit in the dark and not watch the Olympics.

TIME MARCHES ON!