Yeah, I feel bad that I've been holding out on providing you the sweet meats of Fishheadman. At the moment I lack the inspiration and professional capacity to "force it". But I won't hold out on you. I promise you'll get something each week while the Fishheadman part of the brain (somewhere, I'm told, between the oblongata and the cervical cortex) gets some much needed R&R.
The truth is I've been thick in research for another project I'm working on. I'm writing an alternative history steampunk horror novel that requires knowledge of 17th century English history, alchemy, roman history, Zoroastrianism, and the Cthulhu Mythos.
Believe me when I tell you I'm balls deep in wikipedia, discovering things I've never known I needed to know. It's very exciting to discover how fascinating history is when it's not being rhythmically ejaculated monotonously into your face by a teacher who earns minimum wage and loathes his or her students for it.
In regards to this 'treat' I lay before you, I am in no way slandering the vastly noble hispanic people by waylaying their mythically delicious foodstuffs upon the head of a naked shark man. My only intent is to maximize the flavor, by attuning it to the frequency at which my mind explodes in a babbling, idiotic flow of pseudo-creativity. When I eat a taco, the world changes before me, expanding for the few fleeting, crunchy moments before I gulp it down. And I needed to share that with you.
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