THIS is where it all happens. The Control Room of Great Things, or as it is affectionately abbreviated, CROTCH, is the source, the ground zero if you will, of all the mediocrity I sparingly provide to all you out there in the super information cyber highweb sub-etha singular happenstance or something or other. Fitted with the state-of-the-art of 2002, CROTCH now serves a sundry bunch of people, most whom I've never met. Its roots stretch back to the year 1998 when a man and his dog (now deceased and sorely missed) got it into their heads that it would be nice to occasionally eat and have a room of one's own.
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