It's 3pm, the light hits everything just right, the wind is beyond perfection and I'm listening to Breathe by angels and airwaves.  Everything is smooth...I've been spamming the G chord on my guitar for the past four minutes, greatest chord in the world....We have confirmation on a June-July recording date provided we can book a studio and run it.  We probably won't be able to but still....Dinkley took a drive to a distant universe that has nine moons, endless space in the sky, and flashes of brilliant orange and golden light.  The sand sparkles orange and everything has a purple hue.  Just looking into the portal of such a universe as Dinkley's red Mini sped off has caused Piglet, slightly disappointed, to pen his most psychadelic song yet.  I'm not actually sure if it is a song.  I refuse to play it.  We're not sure about the reason for Dinkley's departure, and it is dubious he will ever come back.  He said he has installed cameras to follow us around and will rehop dimensions as soon as Piglet learns to sing.  A fancy way of saying he'll never see us again.
We've realised our own ability to hop dimensions while vast is nowhere near as powerful as Bidwell's who has among other the things the ability to clone himself and send them on random mishaps into all realms of fantasy.  Imagine Piglet's surprise as his imaginary fivesome with kiera knightley, david tennant, Mr. Bean, and Wonder Woman was interrupted by a Bidwell clone eagerly taking notes.  Appatently he hops realities in order to write fan fics about them.  The realm of Farscape seems to be his current obsession and he has apparently driven several of the main characters insane by implying their show was cancelled.  How bizzare.
So based on this, our increasing workload, the need to fight off Mister X from doing his "thing," and adding the final touches on the songs before recording, we have decided to leave full control of the site to Bidwell.  We will be spending our time in the Universe of Melari, a temple in the sky filled with nymphs, sea and sky gods, orange juice and white pillars whilst games of chance with mortals and magical dice are rattling against the marble boards.  We don't really like it, bad internet reception and not enough rain, but it's one of the last places to go to dodge the tax-man.  Or I have to explain a four million dollar "gift" that I spent on collectible sea shells that turned out to be regular sea shells.  Okay times going up must go before I transform back to ooo, take care.
P.S I will be at Rockapalloza next friday, look for the man with the tattoo of a brazillian turtle snake.  He's really cool looking.