In Minneapolis, there was a man. He lived in a tidy house. He had what he wanted, and lived a calm life. He had friends, and was a very reserved man. His name was Earl. He has absolutely nothing to do with this story. There was also a guy named ShadowMan and he wrote this but who really cares about him.

If you're visiting this page, but ready for political parody, poking at dead celebrities, random pictures of ordinary things stuck into bizarre situations, and plenty of references to JFK and Millard Fillmore. Surrealism at 12 o'clock.

Remember to have a designated seatbelt and buckle your driver.