Hello Anons,

I am once again sitting comfy, servicing a second glass of Pappy Van Winkle. As the warmth of the bourbon beats off my tongue, I burrow through the playful wisps of smoke emanating from my 55 year old bamboo bong full of a stinky weed with no name. I think back over the years, and yes, I was here from the beginning…I smile at the absurdity of it all, the perfection of it all, and understand it clearly. We, you, all of us, are the avenging army. We are it. From the most experienced operator to the lowest anon beating off in his cellar, we are one, we are indispensable, we all have equal worth. I for one have have experienced the hellish cacophony of battle, the last gasp of a friend, the failed but admirable attempt of the enemy. I know of no other place I’d rather serve than alongside you wonderful Anons. A chill comes over me, a door slams from the provocative wind. I think of love, of friends lost, of fat pretty Mabel’s seducing smile down at the coffee shop. I take a deep breath, I gather my strength, and lean into the notables. I am firmly erect, stoned, and entering….the NightShift