Our dear friend Tully Kinch, that guy with the strange obsession with Octopi (or perhaps, as I suspect, irregular plural nouns) has gone missing, disappeared, been replaced by a thick sphere of present absence.
If anyone has any information as to his whereabouts, please email, post a comment, or take out an add in the back pages of your favourite free weekly newspaper.
If anyone is directly responsible for his disappearance, as in kidnapping or eloping, or have been incidentally been broadcasting Psychedelic Furs, Ultravox or Magazine albums at super high frequencies, well, watch your fucking backs, we have hounds and many samples of Mr. Kinch's intimate articles of under-clothing, and we are hungry and desperate.
Until his return, I bid you refrain from giving directions to strangers and consuming any kirsch, as Tully is known to impersonate both to disastrous ends.
I presumptively thank you for your concern, prayers and potted jam,
Mikhail Poshlost Borginsky
Find Tully Kinch Now and Associates Enterprise.