Hello

When I'm not busy neighing, hanging my head over a gate or stuffing my face in a nosebag, I like nothing better than a really satisfying Shite. Consequently, I am delighted to present to you this steaming offering from my chums here at Shitespace. The produce you will find here varies widely from the guileless and puerile to the profane and downright vulgar. So, get your shovels at the ready and dig in and see what Shitespace can do for your rhubarb patch.

But first, allow me to introduce myself: I'm your genial host Crappalot and I'm just chuffed to bits to be able to acquaint you with The Shite. In fact, when I was offered the position of Shitespace presenter I was so excited that I went "Neigh!" which turned out to be a slight mistake as it almost cost me the job. However, the misunderstanding was quickly resolved and here I am to guide you around this remarkable site.

Shitespace is the on-line division of Shite Publications, a venerable body of writers dedicated to the production of low quality literature. Shite Publications was founded by its eminent Directors Of Shite, Kate and Mike, who have worked tirelessly to produce this beautifully crafted gibberish, and guide others who wish to partake in this idiom of creative writing.

Originally, the Shite was issued in flimsy, pamphlet-type volumes which were passed around amongst its readership until they became too shabby even to wipe your bottom with. Eventually, demand became so high that issues were having to be produced in quantities of over 12 copies per volume in the UK alone.

Clearly, the production of Shitespace was an essential development in the distribution of Shite to a wider audience. I mean, take you for example. You might be in Aberystwth, Kuala Lumpa or some seedy brothel in Istanbul. You might not even be able to speak a word of English (it doesn't help you much anyway) the point is that you can get your Shite. I tell you, it was terrible in the old days. You used to have to wait ages for Mike to get off his arse and print out the volumes you wanted. Sometimes he'd even make you fill out a form first. And then when you finally got it you'd lose it down the sofa or someone would spill coffee all over it. Now, with nothing more than some expensive computer equipment, a monthly subscription to an internet service provider or a large phone bill you can have all the Shite whenever you like (except when our server's down or when your PC crashes).

But we'd like you to think that Shitespace is more than just a cheap collection of piss-poor poetry and ill-conceived yarns. We'd like you to feel that it is a warm, comforting environment, a safe haven you can relax in and feel totally in tune with the world. Afterall, the rest of the world is here with you, basking in the effulgence of our words and sharing that one unifying vibe that is Shite.

Incidentally, my name comes from the sound my hooves make as I'm galloping around the paddock . . . crappalot - crappalot - crappalot . . . although, like Kate and Mike, I do churn out a large quantity of Shite. Here's some I've just written: