You’re probably wondering why I’m here (well, so am I). Some people call me the space cowboy, some people call me the gangster of love. Some people call me jack, some people call me insane, I’m just a man, with a man’s courage. Nothing but a man who can never fail. I ain’t no senator’s son, I ain’t no millionaire’s son, I ain’t no military son, I ain’t no fortunate one. I ain’t trying to be nasty and I don’t wanna make you scared but I am wicked, I am legion. I got the devil in my blood telling me what to do (and I’m all ears). I am gross and perverted, I’m obsessed and deranged, I hear the baying of the hounds in the distance, I hear them devouring pest ridden jackals of the earth. I can hear the sound of a windmill goin’ ’round, I can see what you mean, it just takes me longer, I’m just a creature from the heap so excuse my savage ignorance but I can see for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles. I should be at the table round, a servant of the crown, the keeper of the sign, to sparkle and to shine and I’m falling off the edge of the world.
Some people like cupcakes exclusively, while I myself say there is naught nor ought there be nothing so exalted on the face of God’s grey earth as that prince of foods . . . The Muffin!