Pabstus Tack, Pabstus Sludge, Pabstus! Pabstus! Of him we sing. We sing his praises, it seems to me, for want of anything better to do. Pabstus Tack sits on his great golden throne, belching out light, a blinding light as gorgeous as it is uncanny. And yet it is an impure light, that is certain, for with Pabstus Tack comes Pabstus Sludge…
The ad is displayed on the page
current post: Drabblecast 281 - Doubleheader XII, ID: 5731
Ad: First Ad (9030)
Placement: After Content (after-content)
Find solutions in the manual
Twabble by Algernon Sydney is Dead
Jack had his head in the clouds & his feet on the ground. He wasn't a remarkable man. He just never saw that airship anchor.