Fearing I had been stricken by the Swine Influenza, I checked myself into the Emergency Room last night. While I was eventually cleared and prescribed disulfiram, the doctor did recommend, much to my chagrin, the prompt removal of a mole located on my right temple. Though I’ve been reassured that this surgery is routine, I have my reservations. Chalk it up to good genetics, but in all my years I have never had anything excised from my body. While I’m generally not the sentimental type, it is always distressing to lose a part of oneself, no matter how seemingly insignificant. Truthfully, I've enjoyed watching her develop over the years—sprouting hair, hitting growth spurts, weeping at times. Sadly, when I look in the mirror tomorrow, she will be gone. Alas, the lord giveth and the lord taketh away.

On the bright side, medical treatment here is incredibly affordable. I may just have some maintenance work done before returning to Minneapolis. I want to be in pristine shape before commencing excavation.

I am abundantly grateful for the show of support on Friday and feel the evening greatly advanced my efforts in exposing the Station. The blog has since received two more hits! I was astonished by the crew’s explicit description of their mission and explanation of the Station. They practically pinpointed its location! Folks, grab your shovels!

Unfortunately, I was required to make a hasty retreat and have returned to my overseas abode. After my appearance on stage, having revealed myself to the public, I feared the Zorn Corporation and paparazzi would soon be after me. My anonymity is essential at this point in my endeavors; thus, my whereabouts must remain undisclosed.

A curious thing happened as I was waiting in line for a baguette at the Metro station this morning. I experienced what can only be described as tremors from an earthquake, which leads me to believe that this Station business could be more extensive than I had previously presumed.

I am Minnesota bound! I had feared I would be unable to make it due to lack of travel documentation, but the stars aligned and I stumbled across a passport in the trash bin! Or rather, next to the trash bin. In a pair of trousers next to the trash bin. Trousers being worn by a drifter next to the trash bin. I have full intentions of returning it.

I greatly hope to see all of you this evening at Pecha Kucha Night. While the evening should be highly informative, do not be fooled into believing the Station is a fabrication. We cannot let the crew disseminate their deceit. They will not have the last word! Not tonight!

I’ve just caught wind of a major event in Minneapolis, Minnesota which will focus some much needed attention on the Pangaea Station! Apparently crew members will be discussing the Station in depth this Friday. I can scarcely believe it! Unfortunately, I have been informed that they plan to present the entire concept as some sort of farce.

This certainly expedites my return the States, for this historic happening cannot be missed. Travel could prove tricky as my passport was confiscated after I hurled it at an undercover agent/flight attendant in self-defense; nonetheless, I will be there to ensure that reality is revealed. I urge all of my devotees to assemble and to join me in the quest to dig up the truth!!

Follow this link for logistics: http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=84682146408

Settling in rather seamlessly here. Not sure if I have it in me to pursue another relationship, as I am married to my mission; nevertheless, I feel I must eventually succumb to the ceaseless advances of the native women, for certainly the barrage will not abate. It's difficult to discern from my profile photo (it's an old passport shot), but I am undeniably dashing. Indeed, the ladies here are lovely. Their beauty seems so effortless. So very effortless...

As previously mentioned, I would like to reach beyond my English speaking base of supporters and will be posting in several languages henceforth. Thus, I will reiterate: the Pangaea Station exists! While its exact coordinates are unknown, it is undoubtedly subterranean. The tectonic plates are moving. Someone is controlling the foundations upon which you stand, driving your destiny.

La Station du Pangaea existe! Bien que les coordonnées exacte soit inconnues, c’est indubitablement souterrainne. Les plats tectoniques se déplace. Quelqu’un commande la fondation sur lequel vous êtes debout, conduisant votre destin.

La Estación de Pangaea existe! El exacto coordinatos son unconocido, es undoubtablemente subterráno. Los platos tectónicos movingos. Es malo.

Die Pangaea Station existiert! Die genauen koordinaten lederhosen. Die tektonischen plattenich. Schnitzel volkswagen.

誰Pangaea#$か!、運@%;)を&行$て、:(あな^が基$づ:@いたコン*%<>$ト=ロ。

Due to the limitations of the keyboard I am working with, I will be postponing the multilingual posts; however, I will be moving determinedly onward with my illumination efforts.

The eagle has landed. Or should I say l’aigle? Journey was pleasant enough, save for the myriad of security agents constantly asking for identification. Where is their identification?! Lord knows who’s paging through my passport, scanning my suitcase, or searching my cavities at the airport.

I will be looking into publishing posts in multiple languages. I pride myself on being septilingual and it disgusts me that many of my new neighbors haven’t even bothered to learn the International Language. It’s obvious that the people here are ignorant and ill-informed, but I remain hopeful that they will embrace me the way my stateside followers have. They, too, must learn the truth.