GONZO THE WEIRDO need she say more?

Salut! Monsieur Dunn:

Thank you for your mad cap, Gonzo the Weirdo, as recently submitted for consideration by the toughtough nuggets at TQR, your favourite e-rag.

How did you know that your minimalist pulp would crash onto my desk here in the damp, dim light of The Floor, I wonder? Of course, you did not, although the odds are [most of the time] 50/50. It spits. it grinds. It teems. It grooves. And just maybe, if his diet has been steady this month, your cap may touch the elusive monkey.

Enough. You only want to know, je pense, as any venture capitalist might, what happens next. Here, I will tell you: Gonzo the Weirdo is going for a ride. How it will fair when scrutinized by the sports-minded, Bruno Gerussi medallion-wearing chest pounders in the Terminal, I can offer no opinion.

Watch. And see. Remember to breathe, mon cher. Sometimes, you may wish to scratch yourself hard just before reading the Terminal's meaty commentary regarding your work when it has its turn in The Terminal sometime after the 15th of the month.

Bon chance and thank you for your interest in TQR, the para diddle conjured entirely in Rorschalk's cymbalic woodshed.

Gabrielle DePlancherThe Floor, TQR --