Dearer reader, Because we have been away from each other for so long (Abcess makes the hard on grow harder) I cannot help but hurt from wonder if you recall the previous 19 chapters of the gross buster and the coup de grass baby angel. Will it be worth your precious time to plumb the dark depths of this sequel . . . or will you just join us in Chapter 20 and say the Buster Fuckhead (see Ch 1) with the prequel.
Will you want to know what a Baby Angel is made of or will you care only to meet her, should her angelic presence reappear in this well? The bike named Paz who like a Geek Chorus commentates upon the love life and other life of the seraphic lady's legs that wrap themselves about him or the dear cara mia van that first rescued yon not so maiden and her semidefunct bicicleta with one flattened and tired tire-will any of these rude mechanicals interest you sweetie pie pursuer?
The Brokeback story of these, dare we call them lovers, might give you outsight into their species origins or not. . . but the dream that meanders through the ladder chapters that occur in the latter part of this cereal killer of a serial spoofnovella could be your own dream come true, , , but who nose, stick it in at any point and join the crusty clown and his, dare he wish, baby angel, the bike, the van, the dream and catch the wave. . . you'll be sittin'on top of a wavygodnosewhut!