I gave people cards with this site url on it. I wonder how many who actually attempted to type it out got this far on the page.

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I remember, long ago, at the ripe old age of seven years my grandplum said to me “huplix (grandplum always called me huplix)” “Huplix,” Grandplum repeated, quite redundantly I must say, “don’t say anything! I’m talking! And Huplix, it’s about time you learned to eat an Oreo.” Grandplum so set off for the vault to fetch the ancestral family oreo, when the house candle-stick-maker rushed in saying “Huplix! there’s a telegram for you! I left it outside by the lampshade. Go get it.” I did so and fetched the telegram. It was from my long lost potato, Turnip. The note read, in part: IT TIME WE SETTLED OLD GRIEVANCE STOP HUPLIX (everyone called me Huplix, actually) PAUSE I CALL YOU OUT STOP IAPOSTROPHELL SEE YOU ON THE RICKI LAKE SHOW THIS SATURDAY STOP. I immediately boarded a automobile for the Ricki Lake Show. When I arrived I only found an elaborate cone of rubble, overgrown with colorful vegetation. I searched through the plants, finding several rupees and a piece of heart but no Turnip. That was when I remembered: this was the old Ricki Lake Show. It burned down twenty years ago. The new one was across town. I quickly crossed town but discovered I was too late. Turnip had dueled without me, picking fights with several random civilians who quickly beat turnip to a fine mash mass. It was the saddest day of my life.