About this journal
John Morlar's Pence Palace of Doom
"EMU indeed! What were they thinking...? Anyway, I expect you'll be wondering why we are here. Those eternal cretins Marwood & I have once again beseeched me to oversee this summary of pence related blathery in order that they may be freed to return to the miserable obscurity from whence they came. What a pair of snivelling, self serving popinjays those two are. A real stain on the history of these fine communicative boards. So, why have I agreed to oversee this nonsense then? Well God only knows my dear reader singular. God only knows. Maybe I simply cannot resist the allure of the underdog. And not that Sparky fool mind, in case you were wondering. No, he can stagnate in his rancid pit for all I care, the flea bitten scapegrace.
So, here's the deal. Read this old tosh, or don't. Do I look like I give a flying at a rolling doughnut either way? Thank you Marlon, for that line. I'll be off now dear reader. Appointment with Pelham at five. That's Harold of course, not the train. Do you think he will he haunt me afterwards...?"
"We shall see"
""Pence Palace of Doom" my eye Morlar! Since when were 'font variants' and 'fifteen cent variants' found in a Pence Palace! Why, they are no more than a half baked addition of unnecessary padding and verbosity! You're quite mad my friend, quite mad!"
"Oh, and you can tell that Zonfeld woman of yours that there's nothing wrong with me. Either of me!"
"Ah. I've just seen the 'miscellany' bit. Sorry about that. Carry on Morlar, carry on..."
Thanks for dropping by, and I hope you find something of interest.
Be seeing you...