and c

The author of this so-called "entertainment" (more like samizdat) has taken a break to pursue creating something so entertaining and compelling that it will rip you ass over head right out of this samsara crap. It starts off with a woman walking through a revolving door, her veil gently billowing in her wake. When it ends, Swirly has become mute, almost like a background actor in his own life. With his addiction to the absurd broken, there is a particular shape missing from his personality, screaming to be heard, but sounding only like rehashed episodes of Pokey.
"We must no longer pursue happiness." Or something. The guy who said that threw piss jugs all over the park. No, that was insurance fraud. This is all very literal.

-The Editors