New Theme at Wannabe Goth Writer

I used this rainy afternoon to create a new custom theme for “Wannabe Goth Writer.” It’s so much better than the boobies–complete with pink, purple, shades of gray, and homunculi.  And, it’s much easier to read.

If you have any interest, check it out here. Our favorite gothic gadfly will be livid when he sees it. 😉

4 thoughts on “New Theme at Wannabe Goth Writer

  1. That isn’t me. That damned animated gif on your libelous site isn’t me asshole. I am not skinny anymore so kindly quit trying to pass that shit off as me making me look like a faggot — true I did a lot of things I am not proud of when I was homeless but I prefer the company of women. Kindly quit offering my non-fiction book for free pole smokers and let me enjoy some success and profit from the damn thing. If you want to see what is being said about you buy the damned book and support the small press instead of pirating it like a fucker.

  2. IF you are the real Nickolaus (since I can’t tell anymore), how’s your blood pressure? I’m worried about you. Will you be okay in time for Gothicfest?

  3. It’s 98 not 77 like those libelous fucks try to spread about me. Timothy Lieder fucked with the wrong man this time and he’s going to go broke by the time I am done with him. Fags like Christopher Pack had no fucking right to go around pirating my books like they have and whoever is behind this blog you are just as guilty as they are in libeling me. Telling people I suck dicks and plagiarize Stephen King — I am a fan of King and would never do what that asshole Keene accuses me of. I have two words for Rusty Nail and you other schmucks, GO TO HELL.

  4. Neither 98 nor 77 is a blood pressure. It should read something like 120 over 70 or 120 over 80.

    I repeat my question: will you be okay in time for Gothicfest?

    I have no dealings with Mr. Lieder, Mr. Pack, nor Mr. Keene. None of them would know me from Adam, as the saying goes.

    You must be confusing me with someone else, because I have never told anyone about your secret sexual habits . . . as if I ever knew or cared about them, anyway.

    The truth is that I really don’t want to know about your repressed sexuality, because it would bore me to death.

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