1) Colours: Black and Red
2) Books: The Thief of Always and The Hellbound Heart by Clive Barker, the entire Hannibal Lecter saga by Thomas Harris, the Necroscope series by Brian Lumley, *ALL* of H.P. Lovecraft works, the entire Resident Evil series, and Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams.
3) Movies: Who Framed Roger Rabbit, The Nightmare Before Christmas (and all of Tim Burton's films), Trick or Treat, Hellraiser (and *ALL* Clive Barker - based films), What Dreams May Come, In the Mouth of Madness, Resident Evil (every single one!), Event Horizon, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, (among a *HUGE* list of martial arts films), Ultraviolet, Identity, Aeon Flux, 300, Crank, Paranormal Activity, The Secret of NIMH (an all-time favourite), and 9.
4) Animal: Cuttlefish! Underwater colour-changing alien squid! If you've ever seen one, you'e undestand. :)
5) Drink: Caffeine, mainlined!
6) Anime: Without a doubt Gurren Lagann is one of the most inspirational thing I have ever seen, but there are tons of others I adore.
7) Manga: FLCL, hands down. It is beyond explaining - *READ IT!*
8) Music: My tastes range the spectrum, include Jackie Evancho, Nightwish, Enigma, Metallica, Trans-Siberian Orchestra, Iggy Azalea, Insane Clown Posse, The Crüxshadows, Arianna Grande, Lorde, Savage Garden, Kittie, Korn. Kitaro, Yo Yo Ma, and soooo many more.
9) Dream Girl: If Luis Royo ever read Brian Lumley's Necroscope series and then drew a Hentai version of Jessica Rabbit as the Lady Karen and then she came to life....oh, yeah! :)
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
Blog #6: Catharsis: The Hunt Resumes
Cue the violins as I wax melancholy for a moment...
For the last two years, I have been a "kept Wolf"; I had happily committed to a long-term polyamorous relationship with two wonderful and Beautiful young women. We built something amazing together, something that made me believe that, finally, I was done hunting, that I had found my way home.
I was proud to be a kept Wolf, to belong to something Beautiful and something that would stand the test of time. The three of us were happy and eager for what the future could bring us.
Then...it all fell apart. The details of how and why are nobody''s business but ours, but I now find myself standing amid the ruin of a once Beautiful dream wondering "Where did it all go wrong?" There is no blame to be laid, no fingers to be pointed, it just didn't work out.
Strange, when I imagined the Multiverse imploding and ending all Creation as we know it, I thought there'd be more fire, more lights and explosions. Instead, it just got really cold...
But despite the aching hollowness, that damnably familiar loneliness, dreams don't turn to dust and it's not in me to give up, to surrender to loneliness or despair. The dreams I live for are still very much alive, made stronger and more vibrant by the taste of a life I might have had that my former Mates blessed me with. So, now a free Wolf, I return to the Night and resume my Hunt, taking with me the lessons this experience has taught me, grateful for the wounds that my lost Mates healed and eager to see what Destiny has in store for me.
I was close this time, so close I could taste it. Having lost it, but knowing it does exist. I lift my nose to the wind and seek the scent that will lead me to where I belong.
Carpe Noctem.
For the last two years, I have been a "kept Wolf"; I had happily committed to a long-term polyamorous relationship with two wonderful and Beautiful young women. We built something amazing together, something that made me believe that, finally, I was done hunting, that I had found my way home.
I was proud to be a kept Wolf, to belong to something Beautiful and something that would stand the test of time. The three of us were happy and eager for what the future could bring us.
Then...it all fell apart. The details of how and why are nobody''s business but ours, but I now find myself standing amid the ruin of a once Beautiful dream wondering "Where did it all go wrong?" There is no blame to be laid, no fingers to be pointed, it just didn't work out.
Strange, when I imagined the Multiverse imploding and ending all Creation as we know it, I thought there'd be more fire, more lights and explosions. Instead, it just got really cold...
But despite the aching hollowness, that damnably familiar loneliness, dreams don't turn to dust and it's not in me to give up, to surrender to loneliness or despair. The dreams I live for are still very much alive, made stronger and more vibrant by the taste of a life I might have had that my former Mates blessed me with. So, now a free Wolf, I return to the Night and resume my Hunt, taking with me the lessons this experience has taught me, grateful for the wounds that my lost Mates healed and eager to see what Destiny has in store for me.
I was close this time, so close I could taste it. Having lost it, but knowing it does exist. I lift my nose to the wind and seek the scent that will lead me to where I belong.
Carpe Noctem.
Blog #5 Contact With Nay Nay's Candy Box CANCELED
Cheshire Industries regrettably announces that, due to an unfortunate mishap with a malfunctioning Xyclone Confetti Cannon, Nay Nay's Candy Box has suffered irreparable damage to its structural integrity and fallen into ruin. As a result of this, Cheshire Industries' contract has been abruptly terminated and The Kyle is now officially unattached.
While this happenstance is regrettable, it is not without precedent, and Cheshire Industries has specialized for years in recovering from such catastrophes. Even as you read this, our cracker-jack surgical teams are working around the clock to repair the Kyle's broken foot, and soon everyone's favourite Mad Cheshire will be back to preforming his mega-awesome Happy-Happy-Joy-Joy Dance and ranting about the goblins that keep stealing his left socks.
In the meantime, we here at Cheshire Industries would be very much obliged to anyone who would mail back any of the confetti-sized pieces of The Kyle's shredded heart that they happen to come across. Thankee sai!
The preceding announcement has been brought to you by all those sappy, depressing Love songs you simply must listen to when you two-year relationship falls apart; and is sponsored by the hope that one day it'll all make sense; and is brought to you by the number 1. Thank you.
I am The Kyle and I approved this message!
While this happenstance is regrettable, it is not without precedent, and Cheshire Industries has specialized for years in recovering from such catastrophes. Even as you read this, our cracker-jack surgical teams are working around the clock to repair the Kyle's broken foot, and soon everyone's favourite Mad Cheshire will be back to preforming his mega-awesome Happy-Happy-Joy-Joy Dance and ranting about the goblins that keep stealing his left socks.
In the meantime, we here at Cheshire Industries would be very much obliged to anyone who would mail back any of the confetti-sized pieces of The Kyle's shredded heart that they happen to come across. Thankee sai!
The preceding announcement has been brought to you by all those sappy, depressing Love songs you simply must listen to when you two-year relationship falls apart; and is sponsored by the hope that one day it'll all make sense; and is brought to you by the number 1. Thank you.
I am The Kyle and I approved this message!
Blog #4: Public Service Announcement (bilirubin bacterium)
PREFACE TO PUBLIC ANNOUNCEMENT: To
all True Friends of The Kyle, and True-Friends-In-The-Making, the following Public
Service Announcement is *not* directed at you. *YOU* are
cherished and exalted companions to whom I owe all my Happy-Happy-Joy-Joy
Yesness, and your friendship is by far the greatest gift I will ever receive.
To you, I am eternally grateful.
What follows is directed at those False who have proven themselves to be decidedly *NOT* Friends of The Kyle.
THE FOLLOWING IS A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT BROUGHT TO YOU BY CHESHIRE INDUSTRIES, A PSYCHEDELIC SUPERNOVA LIGHTING UP A BORING GRAY WORLD.
Hi There! I am The Kyle, founder and Commander-In-Chief of Cheshire Industries, and it has been my undiluted pleasure to know those of you who have written to me *and* have responded so positively to this Blog. Unfortunately, it has become necessary I address an issue that plagues me by bringing to your attention the existence of a particularly disgusting strain of duplicitous and fallacious bacterium that continues to persist in its pathological quest to colonize its collective self in my perpetually super-cool-awesome slice of Reality. Although we here at Cheshire Industries refuse to grace any of the individual paramecium that make up this fecund collective, we have named this infectious wad of rectal phlegm the bilirubin bacterium ( Those of you familiar with Thomas Harris will get the reference; those who are not should start reading!). It is important that you be made aware of this nasty secretion of a leprous codpiece so that it can be isolated, alienated, and (most importantly) obliterated.
Typically, this unsightly fungal growth presents itself as a would-be Pen-Pal responding with fervent interest to either my Blog, exclaiming "Let's be friends!". Said fungus then spends just enough time and puts forth just enough effort to attach itself to me so as to satisfy its selfish momentary infatuation before it goes chasing after what bouncing, shiny red ball that next catches its eye, like a germy, attention-deficient jackdaw; all its promises of friendship and loyalty forgotten, no more substantial than the flatulence they use to speak them.
Even worse than these are the especially heinous pathogens that present as the lesser form of bilirubin bacterium, but possessed of a more parasitic bent. These work harder to "prove" their sincerity, but only so that they can extract whatever juicy tidbits of information they can about my sordid past in order to post my letters on any of the so-called "murderabilia" websites that infest the darker corners of the Internet. These degenerate secretions of tumorous fecal matter want nothing more than to capitalize on the Tragedies of my past, and the miseries of those involved, who have never done anything to deserve these parasites' predations.
If you are among the infectious wastes of aberrant DNA byproduct that bears any resemblance to what I have just described here, if you believe it is acceptable to offer the promise of friendship you have no intention of keeping, or to traffic in the unsanctioned sale of personal correspondence in order to cash in on someone elses troubled past, or to otherwise stroke your pus-bloated ego by cultivating forlorn hope in those with little enough to hope for in the first place, you are each and everyone of you hereby invited to take an immediate, energetic, and enthusiastically exuberant flying frak at a rolling donut--preferably as it rolls into rush hour traffic.
Should you lack a donut and/or convenient rush hour traffic, you may instead feel perfectly free to either stick you genitals into the nearest meat grinder, or pick a fight with a tempermental wolverine by attempting to forcibly circumcise it, whichever suits your fancy. In either event, you petty, malicious shit-stain malignancies, quit infecting my Happy-Happy-Joy-Joy Reality with your stench.
The preceding message has been a Public Service Announcement brought to you by Cheshire Industries, cultivators of overly elaborate ways of dropping scathing F-bombs on particularly disgusting strains of duplicitous and fallacious bacterium since 1983; and is sponsored by the Grind-Master 6000 line of industrial-grade meat grinders; your local donut shop; and the Society of Tempermental Wolverines. Thank you.
I *am* The Kyle and I approved this message!
NOTE: CHESHIRE INDUSTRIES DOES *NOT* ENDORSE THE SALE OF ANY CORRESPONDENCE WRITTEN BY KYLE HULBERT. ANY LETTERS OR OTHER SO-CALLED "MERCHANDISE" IS ADVERTISED WITH NEITHER MY KNOWLEDGE NOR MY PERMISSION. WE WOULD APPRECIATE ANY INFORMATION REGARDING ANYTHING OF THIS NATURE YOU MAY FIND. DO NOT DISGRACE THE DEAD BY PARTICIPATING IN THIS KIND OF ABHORRENT PARASITISM. THANK YOU
What follows is directed at those False who have proven themselves to be decidedly *NOT* Friends of The Kyle.
THE FOLLOWING IS A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT BROUGHT TO YOU BY CHESHIRE INDUSTRIES, A PSYCHEDELIC SUPERNOVA LIGHTING UP A BORING GRAY WORLD.
Hi There! I am The Kyle, founder and Commander-In-Chief of Cheshire Industries, and it has been my undiluted pleasure to know those of you who have written to me *and* have responded so positively to this Blog. Unfortunately, it has become necessary I address an issue that plagues me by bringing to your attention the existence of a particularly disgusting strain of duplicitous and fallacious bacterium that continues to persist in its pathological quest to colonize its collective self in my perpetually super-cool-awesome slice of Reality. Although we here at Cheshire Industries refuse to grace any of the individual paramecium that make up this fecund collective, we have named this infectious wad of rectal phlegm the bilirubin bacterium ( Those of you familiar with Thomas Harris will get the reference; those who are not should start reading!). It is important that you be made aware of this nasty secretion of a leprous codpiece so that it can be isolated, alienated, and (most importantly) obliterated.
Typically, this unsightly fungal growth presents itself as a would-be Pen-Pal responding with fervent interest to either my Blog, exclaiming "Let's be friends!". Said fungus then spends just enough time and puts forth just enough effort to attach itself to me so as to satisfy its selfish momentary infatuation before it goes chasing after what bouncing, shiny red ball that next catches its eye, like a germy, attention-deficient jackdaw; all its promises of friendship and loyalty forgotten, no more substantial than the flatulence they use to speak them.
Even worse than these are the especially heinous pathogens that present as the lesser form of bilirubin bacterium, but possessed of a more parasitic bent. These work harder to "prove" their sincerity, but only so that they can extract whatever juicy tidbits of information they can about my sordid past in order to post my letters on any of the so-called "murderabilia" websites that infest the darker corners of the Internet. These degenerate secretions of tumorous fecal matter want nothing more than to capitalize on the Tragedies of my past, and the miseries of those involved, who have never done anything to deserve these parasites' predations.
If you are among the infectious wastes of aberrant DNA byproduct that bears any resemblance to what I have just described here, if you believe it is acceptable to offer the promise of friendship you have no intention of keeping, or to traffic in the unsanctioned sale of personal correspondence in order to cash in on someone elses troubled past, or to otherwise stroke your pus-bloated ego by cultivating forlorn hope in those with little enough to hope for in the first place, you are each and everyone of you hereby invited to take an immediate, energetic, and enthusiastically exuberant flying frak at a rolling donut--preferably as it rolls into rush hour traffic.
Should you lack a donut and/or convenient rush hour traffic, you may instead feel perfectly free to either stick you genitals into the nearest meat grinder, or pick a fight with a tempermental wolverine by attempting to forcibly circumcise it, whichever suits your fancy. In either event, you petty, malicious shit-stain malignancies, quit infecting my Happy-Happy-Joy-Joy Reality with your stench.
The preceding message has been a Public Service Announcement brought to you by Cheshire Industries, cultivators of overly elaborate ways of dropping scathing F-bombs on particularly disgusting strains of duplicitous and fallacious bacterium since 1983; and is sponsored by the Grind-Master 6000 line of industrial-grade meat grinders; your local donut shop; and the Society of Tempermental Wolverines. Thank you.
I *am* The Kyle and I approved this message!
NOTE: CHESHIRE INDUSTRIES DOES *NOT* ENDORSE THE SALE OF ANY CORRESPONDENCE WRITTEN BY KYLE HULBERT. ANY LETTERS OR OTHER SO-CALLED "MERCHANDISE" IS ADVERTISED WITH NEITHER MY KNOWLEDGE NOR MY PERMISSION. WE WOULD APPRECIATE ANY INFORMATION REGARDING ANYTHING OF THIS NATURE YOU MAY FIND. DO NOT DISGRACE THE DEAD BY PARTICIPATING IN THIS KIND OF ABHORRENT PARASITISM. THANK YOU
Blog #3: Delays; Evil Minion Positions Available
For those of you concerned about the
delays in postings (or simply jonesing for your Strangeness fix!), I must apologize.
Unfortunately, several of my Evil Minions have had to be placed on emergency
sabbaticals in order to have their behavioral implants recalibrated. I
determined that when my Evil Minions began digging up the freeway during rush
hour with the intent to plant tuplips, it was time for a tune-up (and I would
once again like to apologize to the Department of Traffic for the potholes!).
An unfortunate side-effect of these sabbaticals is regrettable delay in
uploading new transmissions of The Strangeness.
However! This also means that I have openings in my Minion Legion! Cheshire Industries is recruiting interns for my ongoing campaign for world domination! Duties include website design/updating and general maintenance and assisting with uploading my Strangeness WMDs and spreading The Strangeness across the Blogosphere and beyond! Anyone who is interested may apply directly - apply now and help Cheshire Industries infect the world!
I am The Kyle and I approved this message!
P.S. A free helpful tip for all you aspiring Mad Scientists out there: *DON'T* buy surplus recalled Bulgarian Mark II Behave - O - Matic behavioral modification brain implants from a guy selling them out of the back of a broke-down HumVee; I don't care what kind of discount he's offering! Get them somewhere reputable from a vendor you can trust, like on Craigslist!
However! This also means that I have openings in my Minion Legion! Cheshire Industries is recruiting interns for my ongoing campaign for world domination! Duties include website design/updating and general maintenance and assisting with uploading my Strangeness WMDs and spreading The Strangeness across the Blogosphere and beyond! Anyone who is interested may apply directly - apply now and help Cheshire Industries infect the world!
I am The Kyle and I approved this message!
P.S. A free helpful tip for all you aspiring Mad Scientists out there: *DON'T* buy surplus recalled Bulgarian Mark II Behave - O - Matic behavioral modification brain implants from a guy selling them out of the back of a broke-down HumVee; I don't care what kind of discount he's offering! Get them somewhere reputable from a vendor you can trust, like on Craigslist!
Blog #2: Operation: Cheesegrater (or, My Mutant Rat Mess)
You would think that breeding genetically enhanced mutant rats for your army in pursuit of your goal of world domination is a splendid idea.
Yeah...not.
Not too long ago, I had a rather nice lab set up in Waverly, Virginia, and I began my mutant rat breeding program (codenamed Operation: Cheesegrater) with high hopes. The first batch of specimens proved promising - strong, smarter than your average rodent, and able to chew through titanium like melted cheese. They didn't know ninjitsu and so weren't as super-cool-awesome as Master Splinter, bu still - I was happy. Thus, I launched a massive production of the same genetic batch and soon had over 2,000 voracious little soldiers ready to do my bidding.
The best part was they worked for cheese!
Two weeks later, disaster struck; I was preparing to execute an exploratory raid on a nearby town when I discovered that the furry bastards had all under went an accelerated kind of adolescence overnight. I could have lived a thousand years and died happily without having ever seen my army of mutant rats frakking like tweaked-out jack rabbits!
(Thank God that I had the foresight to cross their genetic wires and make them all sterile! I can't imagine how I would have dealt with a horde of terminally horny rats swarming my compound and humping everything in sight!)
In hindsight, it probably wasn't the brightest idea to weed them on that experimental methamphetamine-adrenaline compound. It's not that they were breeding so uncontrollably that was the problem, it was that they kept at it until their hearts exploded! Do you have any idea what kind of mess all those ruptured rat rib cages make?!
Thankfully, shortly after I was forced to evacuate, those rats whose hearts proved sturdier than the rest either starved to death or died of dehydration.
For all you aspiring Mad Scientists out there who dream of breeding your own unstoppable army of mutant rats to aid you in your quest for world domination, take my advice: breed eunuchs!
I am The Kyle and I approved this message!
Yeah...not.
Not too long ago, I had a rather nice lab set up in Waverly, Virginia, and I began my mutant rat breeding program (codenamed Operation: Cheesegrater) with high hopes. The first batch of specimens proved promising - strong, smarter than your average rodent, and able to chew through titanium like melted cheese. They didn't know ninjitsu and so weren't as super-cool-awesome as Master Splinter, bu still - I was happy. Thus, I launched a massive production of the same genetic batch and soon had over 2,000 voracious little soldiers ready to do my bidding.
The best part was they worked for cheese!
Two weeks later, disaster struck; I was preparing to execute an exploratory raid on a nearby town when I discovered that the furry bastards had all under went an accelerated kind of adolescence overnight. I could have lived a thousand years and died happily without having ever seen my army of mutant rats frakking like tweaked-out jack rabbits!
(Thank God that I had the foresight to cross their genetic wires and make them all sterile! I can't imagine how I would have dealt with a horde of terminally horny rats swarming my compound and humping everything in sight!)
In hindsight, it probably wasn't the brightest idea to weed them on that experimental methamphetamine-adrenaline compound. It's not that they were breeding so uncontrollably that was the problem, it was that they kept at it until their hearts exploded! Do you have any idea what kind of mess all those ruptured rat rib cages make?!
Thankfully, shortly after I was forced to evacuate, those rats whose hearts proved sturdier than the rest either starved to death or died of dehydration.
For all you aspiring Mad Scientists out there who dream of breeding your own unstoppable army of mutant rats to aid you in your quest for world domination, take my advice: breed eunuchs!
I am The Kyle and I approved this message!
Blog #1: Enter The Strangness!
Entering Blogosphere....
<Scanning>
<Scanning complete>
Scanners indicate the Blogosphere is an ideal canidate to host The Strangeness. Initiate teleportation of random oddities...
Flictonic Clipple Wave Syndrome is in full effect: Please stand by for Trans-dimentional Teleportation of random oddities...
Hi! I am The Kyle, Certified (and Certifiable) Mad Hatter and the founder and Commander - in - Chief of Cheshire Industries, your one - stop - shop for all your oddity fixations. Welcome to my Blog! I hope this introduction will give you an idea of what you're in for...
Not too long ago, I realized that the world is far to serious for its own good; way too many of you out there in Freeworld are all stressed out with no-one to choke! Thus, I took it upon myself to initiate a first-strike protocol and begin launching my vast arsenal of WMDs (that's Whimsically Maniacal Diatribes) and employ my mega-awesome patented designer virus, codenamed The Strangeness, to infect the world with all kinds of Happy-Happy-Joy-Joy Yayness and bring it to its senses!
My First target was facebook, but those damn character limitations are not conducive to spreading my highly-communicable virus, so I've turned my sights on the Blogosphere. Here I can effect a higher saturation rate and an enhanced viral efficacy, which means that my plans for world domination can now proceed undeterred! Prepare to be infected-victory is mine!
There is no cure for The Strangeness and your immune system can't repel it - I've designed it that way! :) So, not only is resistance futile, but you're just not going to have any fun trying. Come to The Kyle Side - we've got cookies!
If you'd like to communicate with me, I Love meeting new and interesting people. The best way to reach me is via snail mail at my Super Secret Ultra Hidden Mad Scientist Hideaway of Ultimate Obscure Not - Findingness:
Kyle Hulbert #1165519
River North Correctional Center
329 Dell Brook Lane
Independence, Virginia 24348
(but shhh! it's a secret - duh!) You can post comments (and it's be a super-cool-awesome if you did), but my Evil Minions have recently gotten themselves addicted to snorting printer toner and until I get them all through rehab, they'll only be able to print emails once a month. Given my location, snail is the only surefire means of timely communication with me, especially given that my jailors take a very dim view of me having any access to Internet-connected computers (I swear, you upload one tiny self-replicating Cylon network virus and the Pentagon gets all Defcon 1 on you....)
Through my faithful and trusty Evil Minions, I will be hijacking the Blogosphere on a regular basis and uploading massive doses of The Strangeness for your infectious pleasure. It is my express purpose to infect the entire world! You can increase your chances of contracting The Strangeness by writing me directly - that's why it's called a communicable virus!
If you'd like to learn more about your new favorite Mad Hatter with the Cheshire grin, you can talk to my Evil Minions and/or go to www.cellpals.com and find my page under Virginia Inmates; you can learn all the particulars of my incarceration by going to www.geocities.ws/savekyle; or you can come straight to the source to ask, I'll have the decency to be honest.
I will soon be uploading all VaDOC's (stupid!) mail rules, which I strongly urge you to read (apparently, the prison frowns upon anyone mailing me rocket-assist jump boots and hand-held neutron cannons - go figure!). My evil Minions are working extra-specially hard to fill this Blog profile with everything you could possibly need to get into contact with me and keep up with the Wonderfully Frakked-Up Life of Everyone's Favourite Mad Hatter, The Kyle! Lucky you!
In any event, cats and kittens, stay tuned and remember that a truly hoopy frood always knows where is his towel is!
<Scanning>
<Scanning complete>
Scanners indicate the Blogosphere is an ideal canidate to host The Strangeness. Initiate teleportation of random oddities...
Flictonic Clipple Wave Syndrome is in full effect: Please stand by for Trans-dimentional Teleportation of random oddities...
Hi! I am The Kyle, Certified (and Certifiable) Mad Hatter and the founder and Commander - in - Chief of Cheshire Industries, your one - stop - shop for all your oddity fixations. Welcome to my Blog! I hope this introduction will give you an idea of what you're in for...
Not too long ago, I realized that the world is far to serious for its own good; way too many of you out there in Freeworld are all stressed out with no-one to choke! Thus, I took it upon myself to initiate a first-strike protocol and begin launching my vast arsenal of WMDs (that's Whimsically Maniacal Diatribes) and employ my mega-awesome patented designer virus, codenamed The Strangeness, to infect the world with all kinds of Happy-Happy-Joy-Joy Yayness and bring it to its senses!
My First target was facebook, but those damn character limitations are not conducive to spreading my highly-communicable virus, so I've turned my sights on the Blogosphere. Here I can effect a higher saturation rate and an enhanced viral efficacy, which means that my plans for world domination can now proceed undeterred! Prepare to be infected-victory is mine!
There is no cure for The Strangeness and your immune system can't repel it - I've designed it that way! :) So, not only is resistance futile, but you're just not going to have any fun trying. Come to The Kyle Side - we've got cookies!
If you'd like to communicate with me, I Love meeting new and interesting people. The best way to reach me is via snail mail at my Super Secret Ultra Hidden Mad Scientist Hideaway of Ultimate Obscure Not - Findingness:
Kyle Hulbert #1165519
River North Correctional Center
329 Dell Brook Lane
Independence, Virginia 24348
(but shhh! it's a secret - duh!) You can post comments (and it's be a super-cool-awesome if you did), but my Evil Minions have recently gotten themselves addicted to snorting printer toner and until I get them all through rehab, they'll only be able to print emails once a month. Given my location, snail is the only surefire means of timely communication with me, especially given that my jailors take a very dim view of me having any access to Internet-connected computers (I swear, you upload one tiny self-replicating Cylon network virus and the Pentagon gets all Defcon 1 on you....)
Through my faithful and trusty Evil Minions, I will be hijacking the Blogosphere on a regular basis and uploading massive doses of The Strangeness for your infectious pleasure. It is my express purpose to infect the entire world! You can increase your chances of contracting The Strangeness by writing me directly - that's why it's called a communicable virus!
If you'd like to learn more about your new favorite Mad Hatter with the Cheshire grin, you can talk to my Evil Minions and/or go to www.cellpals.com and find my page under Virginia Inmates; you can learn all the particulars of my incarceration by going to www.geocities.ws/savekyle; or you can come straight to the source to ask, I'll have the decency to be honest.
I will soon be uploading all VaDOC's (stupid!) mail rules, which I strongly urge you to read (apparently, the prison frowns upon anyone mailing me rocket-assist jump boots and hand-held neutron cannons - go figure!). My evil Minions are working extra-specially hard to fill this Blog profile with everything you could possibly need to get into contact with me and keep up with the Wonderfully Frakked-Up Life of Everyone's Favourite Mad Hatter, The Kyle! Lucky you!
In any event, cats and kittens, stay tuned and remember that a truly hoopy frood always knows where is his towel is!
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