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The year was 1897*. Yellow journalism was rampant; Hearst and Pulitzer were locked in a death grip clenched around America 's perception of reality. In short, no one knew what the hell was going on.

In a smoky back room of Emmit's Pub, a group of revolutionaries envisioned a light through the haze. That light was Wayward Uncle. A voice for the people, by the people.

This one perfect night, friends, an idea was born so simple and pure, yet so magnificent, the gods on Olympus themselves marveled. Wayward Uncle would deliver (for free! dear followers, for free!**) the truth in its most unadulterated form***.

Once an underground one sheet delivered to the outward reaches by pack mule, Wayward Uncle has transformed into what you see now, a full color masterpiece brought to you via the Interwebs****.

And here it is for you to feast your brains on, dear readers. Even in our 110th year, Wayward Uncle adheres to the stringent principles***** of our forbearers. We will forever endure to fight corruption, further societal discourse, and sometimes make you laugh, just like Uncle Ned who smells like a hippie and always tells a good hobo story.


*To be honest, the site started in 2007.
**We are poor. Please pay us.
***Wayward Uncle is chock full of lies.
****We just stumbled on this thing a couple of years ago. Did you know it has porn?
*****We have no principles. None.