Dispatch from the Frontlines

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Regimental Sergeant Biggles here.
I thought I had been given the chance of a lifetime...actual
access to the inner sanctum sanctorium... A chance to see
where the magic happens. Nestled deep in the heart of The City Of Angels
in a non-descript building guarded by enormous albino fierce beasts and
heavily secured, lies the home of what we mere recruits of the Python Army
consider the Mecca of our online experience, yes dear reader,
I am talking about the orifices, err uhm offices of PYTHONLINE!!!!!

Blindfolded and trussed up like a christmmas ham I was driven through
the teaming Los Angeles freeway system in the hopes of me not knowing where
I was going, so I could never reveal the location of this Zanadu under torture
(not an easy feat since I was the one driving). Thrown into the opullant
marble corridors and dragged up teaming flights of stairs, they immediately
(and quite sadisticaly) sicked a dog on me and paraded me through the throngs of
the evil overlords whom guard the cherished secrets of all things Pythonic.

They have chained me to a desk and locked me in a small broomcloset and
have threatened me with cushions and comfy chairs if I dont produce more images
and learn Mashcaster....SEND HELP IMMEDIATELY !!!!
I AM Loca* lcas;dkh;lvh;ld'lvk jsn;sn

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