As I took keyboard in hand and dipped my brain into the black inkwell that is my soul, I was suddenly struck by the dearth of “nard” related humor on this blog.

What happened to me? When did puerile humor suddenly slip by the wayside? Had I, Kona, the most profound thinker ever to listen to Jack Johnson whilst sniffing vanilla scented candles, lost my comedo-philosphic way? Perhaps.

But then the ship of fate set me aright with the alarming news that Voodoo men right here in the Congo (my work location) are prancing about and robbing men of their. . .ahem virility. That’s right.  Billywitchdoctor.com and his cohorts are single handedly shrinking nards and generally making life difficult for the ”average” man. 

This is real. I swear.  Jack Johnson will attest to the fact.

So if you see this man stading next to you on the street corner. Don’t move.

And if he asks you to, never, I repeat, never say these words:

I Am Sofa King We Todd Ed.

The nards you save could be your own.