Upon trying to view this page, you suddenly find yourself clusterfucked by ominous warning signs that hop about on their poles like lame monopods and bark aggressively. Among other things, the signs warn you of biohazards, electrocution, amputation, sign-attack, vague feelings of disappointment, ennui, bicyclists, trains, being smothered by a giant waffle, and tigers—feature stickfigures in interesting states of death and dismemberment—and come in rather pretty colors like hot pink, saffron, vermilion, smiling at you with teeth like knitting needles, and on fire. Shady-looking silhouettes eye you in an unsavory manner from the shadows, fingers on the triggers of their guns. The silhouettes reveal to you that this long-abandoned page is now their top secret meeting place, and you are asked to amscray, poste haste. . . .
In other words, this page is now private. I will be using it as storage space for my top secret projects and possibly as a meeting place for my podcast crew. You are politely asked to not view anything on here unless you have been invited to do so.