In the days of my prime I committed a social crime For every day I would plot To one day rule Camelot Giving up fortune and fame To play a silly game Little did anyone know This King Arthur would grow... ...from a boy everyone would pity To an admired man in the city... ...who dares to have the audacious thought of turning that city into Camelot.
Do you normally dislike poetry? Me too! It turns out, I like writing it, but I cringe at the thought of the stereotypical puffy culture surrounding it. If I want to smell my own farts all day, I stuff my belly with garlic and onions, thank you very much.
Anyway, if you want more poetry without all the stuffy pseudo-intellectual silliness attached, subscribe to my newsletter below. Unsubscribe at anytime. I respect your time by respecting mine. I don’t send frivolous bullshit.
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Sorry, sorry! I just thought since you've been on this site for longer than average, you might hear me out?
Why do you do this to me, Ian...
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'Serve me better.' What deliciously vague jargon. Is this where you pretend to be me and you make me respond with a contrived form of consent because you're bold enough to assume this cute little chat interface gimmick is enough to actually get me to sign up?
Ummm... uhhh... ahh... Sign up and get exclusive discounts and early access!!!! Come ooooon! Induced scarcity is fun!
...alright, well, I'll leave it up to you.
Like this nav? It does what every marketing-oriented web designer will tell you not to do: shove as many things in your face as I can!
