The Return of the Three Bewhiskered Desperados

    Hah!  Ha ha ha ha!!  Ha ha!  Joe said that he would post, but he didn't, so I shall now undertake to post a post about how he said that he would post but then failed to post, leaving the area wide open for trolling hobos to post posts about posters who don't post.
    Yes, gentle readers, you have drawn the correct conclusion:  the Three Desperados are back, after a months-long absence during which we did absolutely nothing productive.  Well, Bebo did productive things, but he was abroad, so he hardly counts.  He does, however, softly count--under his breath, you know, while trying to fall asleep.  He counts kangaroos.  Australia has corrupted him.
    I can't really think of anything cheery to say, other than Joe has quite badly fumbled the ball (which is why I'm here) and Bebo is back from Australia (five-star beard and all).  Oh, wait, I can think of something cheery to say: I, Hugo the Horrible, am moving!  Far away!  To someplace where it rains fewer than three hundred days out of the three hundred and sixty-five!  And I am never coming back!  We shan't have the boomerang effect with Hugo as we did with Bebo; no, no, no seven-month absences for me.  Mine is permanent.  The other Desperados are almost as happy about it as I am... But they can never be fully as happy as I, because they are staying in this horrid, dreary, miserable damp place, whereas I shall be free, free, free...  In the sun...  Skin cancer, you have met your latest victim.  Take me!  I am willing!
    Okay, I shall move on now, because that wasn't weird at all...
    You know what, I think that I shall move on quite extensively, and end this thing before it gets out of hand.
    Ta for now!
     Your affectionate uncle,

~Hugo the Horrible