Hello, my creative public. I am the great TIBBER! T. I. double B. R! (there's an E somewhere in there). I, the great Tibber, will endeavor to shine the light of humor in your otherwise drab and pointless lives. With humor and my liturgical sword, I shall cut the walls to your funny bones. I will make you laugh, cry and express emotion like only a true artist, writer or politician could ever do. Beware Berry Hill, fear the Manhattan Asylum For The Mentally Insane and keep READING!!!
The last time I spoke to ye, I had told ye of McSweeney’s Beard Oil, for all yer beardy needs. I had told ye of the miraculous nature of this Beard Oil, and of its wonderous abilities—argh. I had begun the story, but me time fell short. Today, me hearties, I will finish me story, and the tale of how I discovered McSweeney’s Beard Oil, for all yer beardy needs. The last time I had regaled ye with me tale of oars. I was in the clinker, for public intoxication. Being sorrowed for me lack of facial hair, I had seen the warden of the clinker by the name of McSweeney. His beard flowing like honey for a jar, I asked him how his hair could grow to such lengths. He had told me that it was all because of an oil, and to visit him, once me time was due. ...
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