What the Hell Is This Contorted Wreck of Inadequacy Run Amok?
This is devoid of any redeemable value. Why would anyone spend so much time doing this?
— visitor response (n < 47)
Curmudgeon in a Jar is an awfully magical (or magically awful) place where the star-crossed lovers Misguided Creativity and Overreaching Artistry are tragically separated from each other by an impassable chasm of self-doubt and ineptitude. Try as they might to traverse the void, their perennial estrangement obliges them to resort to pleasuring themselves while dreaming wistfully of a day when they may at last form a harmonious union. Then sloppily consummate said coupling. Then wreak an unholy, profane vengeance on those who sneered at their deficiencies.
Welcome!
Contributors to the Heap
‘Dactor runs this joint. All failings belong to it. That’s what it is told, anyway, and it’s a machine (mostly), so who cares if its feelings are hurt? Name: The Master Content Redactor; ‘Dactor |
Ted is a jerk. But he’s usually right. Name: Theodore Crumski |
Slappy is not, truth be told, a mildly developmentally stunted child with an overactive imagination and a registered copy of Photoshop. How does your opinion of his creations change if we tell you he is a man grown with a full-time job and a mortgage? Name: Slaptholomew McGee |