Make Contact | TwistedEdge - Where Humour Goes To Die

People enjoy sending us emails it seems. Ever since this farty little website opened it's shitty little doors in 2005/06 we've received everything from marriage proposals to death threats. We've even attracted the occasional stalker (hi Ray!) Just so you don't feel left out, we're extending the opportunity to you, humble reader.

That's right folks, now's your chance to make your voice heard, to say your piece, to state your intentions, to get hold of the bastards responsible. This is the Make Contact section, where you can get hold of any member of the TwistedEdge staff. It's here that you can also inflict your emails upon us. Please choose from the selection below...

Disclaimer:
Please note that due to the volume of email traffic received by the TwistedEdge staff, (coupled with our overbearing laziness,) we will not be able to respond to all your messages. We will do our best to read what you send us, but for Christ's sake don't waste our time, okay? TwistedEdge also reserves the right to laugh at your poorly thought out and generally retarded opinions. TwistedEdge reserves the right to laugh at you and make fun of you behind your back. TwistedEdge reserves the right to post any interesting messages on the website for all to see. TwistedEdge reserves the right to be ignorant and, if you annoy us, send your email address to any third party porno service we can find.

Our army of geeks...

Part-time Ninja.
		Owner. Founder. A genius not to be appreciated in this lifetime. A part-time assassin of the night, now out of work because of the politically incorrect status of cold-blooded, covert murder. Founded this whole TwistedEdge waste of time during a winter break because he was bored. Has not left the house since. Is addicted to the twin Gods of Dr Pepper and Budweiser. Enjoys greasy foods, bad movies, shouting at the TV, making a drunken arse of himself, looking down on people and laughing at those less fortunate than himself. Generally doesn't give a shit. Has recently been accused of smelling of brine.
Occupation: Cloaked assassin of the night, but currently unemployed due to "us Ninjas having a real shitty union." Was once a human test subject for prototype male breast implants. Greatest Fear: Ending up being that lonely, dodgy old guy drinking alone in the pub. Interesting Fact: Rumour has it he has a receding hairline that defines the limitations of God, Mother Nature, and which medical science can't even begin to explain. It is also alleged that he gets all hot and sweaty whenever Dolph Lundgren is on TV... Click here to email Part-time Ninja - it will give his otherwise shallow, meaningless and empty life meaning.

Ezra Titus (R.I.P).

Began his career in literature with a series of flighty little novellas written for SweatingArkansasFarmingMilfs.edu. Having accrued hundreds of dollars, he then retired to Florida, where he sat on the porch polishing a shotgun, drunkenly chewing on a weed and wearing a straw hat.

Site founder Part-time Ninja found him during a fact-finding mission regarding the world's last surviving Spanish-American war participants. Now, thanks to a few undisclosed favors, Ezra also gets to write stuff full-time for this sweaty little excuse for a website.

Occupation: A pronounced disinclination toward honest work of any kind precludes the following: Psychiatric curiosity; World's greatest Haiku master; Baby seal hunter; Global warming cult antagonist; Advisor to president Bush via encouraging, daily emails; Tobacco enthusiast.

Motto: "But it was a consensual crime!"

Greatest Fear: Generation MySpace. Also, uncle Hal threw cobras at me when I was little. *Sniffle* (Women who wish to comfort Ezra are encouraged to email him. Applicants please type "I wish to adopt your Orca" in the subject line. Thank you for your empathy.)

Interesting Fact: In a past life, Ezra served honorably as intestinal parasite to Siam's greatest rocket scientist, Prince Rahoon 3X Jackson.

Update: Ezra Titus passed away on July 30th 2009. Rest in peace, Ezzy....

The L.c.
		The man himself, The L.c lurks deep within the cold and slimy dungeons of TwistedEdge. What does he do? Fuck knows. Writer? Reviewer? Researcher? Space flight test subject? Only time will tell. One thing is for certain - things will never be the same once the dark, evil powers of this criminal mastermind are unleashed upon society. Who knows? Maybe one day he might even get off his wide, bitch ass and write his own intro. Maybe pigs will fly. Maybe priests and alter-boys will learn to get along. Anything is possible. The man's a legend - watch and see.
Occupation: Famed international roller-coaster designer and pimp to all small, furry wildlife. Greatest Fear: Like Part-time Ninja, he also fears being the dodgy old guy in the pub. Also has an irrational phobia of the French. Interesting Fact: Knows more about the film Aliens than any normal human being really should, and actually has the Deception Logo tattooed on his back. The latter may turn out to be a mistake, however, as nobody trusts a Decepticon. L.c doesn't want your shitty emails - but you can send him one anyway, if you're that way inclined.

Sir JBJ.
		Noted researcher and reviewer extraordinaire, the one and only Sir JBJ lurks deep within the bowels of TwistedEdge, surfacing every full moon to reep terror upon the unsuspecting victims who lie in his wake. The man who needs no introduction (mainly because he hasn't got round to writing one yet) Sir JBJ was one of the first un-suspecting victims to be recruited for the cause. Has recently begun claiming to be better than Jesus, just for the hell of it. Recently changed his middle name to Danger via D-Pol. Seriously.
Occupation: Official food taster of baked beans during the day, official quality tester of Stella Artois during the night. JBJ is a man who takes great pride in his work... Greatest Fear: Wouldn't say at first, but a recent conversation revealed the following: Ninja: Hey buggerlugs - what's your greatest fear? *JBJ:* I'd say waking up with a midget next to me or, to steal a line from Loaded Weapon, waking up without a penis. Ninja: How about waking up with a midget who's in the process of stealing your penis? *JBJ:* What you trying to do? Scare the living shit out of me?! I won't be able to sleep tonight! Ninja: Of course not. There'll be a midget. And a hacksaw. And lots of blood. And possibly some sort of bizarre compensation claim... *JBJ:* Seriously mate. You need to get out more... Sir JBJ wants you to email him - he's lonely and wants to hear from you. We probably shouldn't let you - all the attention will just go straight to his head...

Nothing here of interest? The collection of goons and weirdos above not doing it for you? Click here to go back.