"'Here Comes Trouble?' You call that an introduction?"
Meet "Chip," the lovable, nacho-flavored tri-cornered invisible entity that lives on my shoulder. For reasons that should soon become obvious, I have kept him both invisible and silent, since he is apt to give voice to the worst, most egregious and unspeakable comments lurking in my subconscious. I cannot always vouch for or support what he has to say, but he's always there, and I cannot stop him.
In the interest of World Peace, I have decided to try letting Chip vent his imaginary spleen from time to time here in the relative privacy of the small room. Perhaps in this way, some harmless steam will be blown off, and I will prevent myself from spontaneously combusting.