Aha! Is Gimble not always the epitome of success? Today I give to thee the spoils of my victory, The March of Gimble, unsullied and grand.
As you may know, another of the Pork Pony staff members vacated the offices this week. Yes, Mike Wargo, the brewer of the acrid ale that is Club 11 is gone. With him goes the office's need for a cabinet full of Fibercon. That's right, Wargo, you are literary constipation!
In other news, Pork Pony has decided to send me on a trip. They're asking me to tour the world on their dollar! They want a Gimble's eye view of the Earth and its people. Alas, who does not?
The itinerary has not been set, but I imagine I'll be sent to locations exotic. I cannot wait to be pampered and bathed by Samoan princesses on the island's of the blue Pacific. Germany's husky lasses call out to me, for they wish to feed me wurst most tasty as they hold me to their bosoms.
I relish this opportunity as much as you shall anticipate every report.
Dear reader, the world is Gimble's.