The Minx Returns...

Greetings Friends/Fiends, 

Your old pal Minxie is here, back from the prisons of Calcutta to expound truths, slander, and written sodomy on the poor degenerates that frequent this here NewHindenburg. Now I know what you're wondering? How did old Minxie, the Minx himself, named after a prestigious member of the Ivy League, wind up in a Calcutta Prison? 

It's a long story. A fantastic and winding tale that will both amuse and bemuse you. I can't hope to tell my entire tale at this here website (as the amazing nature of it's circumstance defy the confines of the internet. I hate the internet. I believe it to be a scourge, a constant cancer upon man, mankind, and mammals as a whole. However, my good pal Lawlor is quite the fan so I mustn't destroy it...yet). In a nutshell: I went to study the tribes of the Holy Eunuchs. I became enamored and found myself desirous of spreading this blessing in the form of forced castrations). 

ANYHOWWWWWWWWWW... Upon finding my way back to the United States and this here Hindenburg, I was extremely disheartened. Our culture has vanished. Where is Sergei? I know Bryan Hood murdered Archibald Aurelius in cold blood as he teetered on the cusp of recovery. I shed tears over the murder but at the very least, I expected Bryan Anthony Bianco Hood to replace him with his own brand of flannel-wrought idiocy. I was wrong. He has done nothing but dine on caviar and the sweet taste of death since strangling Archibald with his own sacred scarf. The Hindenburg as we know it is dying... Vincent, Jimmy, Jasper, and Curtis... Shame on you! We birthed this out of beauty. Fuck the NBA! The NewHindenburg was going to be where amazing happened. I know we should've never invited you in the first place. Shows what I get for listening to one Bryan Anthony Bianco Hood. 

This began as something beautiful, but we quit along with Charlie. Charlie you coward! How could you give up on the blog? Don't you know that our monikers are our protection? By becoming yourself, by unearthing one Joel Walkowski, you have served our blog up to heathens any where and everywhere.... 

This isn't the NewHindenburg anymore...

If we were true to our objective of chronicling the amazing and all that was right to care about we would have offered up...

3 posts on Josh Hamilton's various addictions.

26 posts for each of Josh Hamilton's tattoos which he gathered in the confines of a tattoo parlor. Since he is the biggest story in baseball and the most redemptive tale since Rabbit Angstrom, many stories are told of him. All of these stories include the anecdote that as the most promising major leaguer since, well... ever, he began to hang around a local tattoo parlor. What the fuck is that shit? Why won't you tell us why the tattoo parlor was that awesome? As far as I'm concerned he got addicted to drugs for good reason. Tattoo parlors are fucking great. I walked past a tattoo parlor yesterday and saw a baby inside. I don't know if he was receiving a tattoo or not but FUCK IT, my belief in America was upheld. 

7 posts on babies

6 1/2 posts on the Enormous Omelette Sandwich

1 post on Mormons/Katherine Heigel/wanting to bone a mormon

15 posts on veal 

2 posts on Abraham Lincoln

3 posts on Mack Strong (just to spite Lincoln's ghost) 

65 posts on gumballs

Whither the Hindenburg. We stand as a paragon of what matters, not as some receptacle for Joel Walkowski to masturbate into. We fucking get it Joel! You're young, you might be gifted, and you're trying to write. 

With all due respect, quit boring the shit out of us. 

Bring Back The Hindenburg.

Indeed.