The first answer is us.

We are the Mixed-Up Wheat Spiced Pork Tenderloin Eggs.

We are a group of people, or to be more precise a group of living, or dead, or animals, or things, or perverts, or brain-dead people who call themselves pigs and are self-deprecatingly stupid, self-identified, and narcissistic South China pigs.

The second answer is a piece of place.

It's some corner of the great network that condenses us together, where the attraction blends our group of foul-smelling rabble pigs, with a wide space dominated and mastered by ourselves. In our eyes, it is a pile of the old warehouse of the night talk, a ride on the alien flying saucer of the demons and monsters, a buried primitive forest of rare grasses and rocks, and a gurgling brook that blends the still waters of the waves.

The third answer is a feeling.

The desire to do their best to abandon some of the ingredients of pride, eliminating some of the hypocrisy and impatience of the crazy, away from some serious atmosphere, breaking some of the habit of conformity.

Free, but not selfish; unrestrained, but not lawless.

In short, utopia or idealism, random fantasy or 2Star. It is a group of ordinary netizens who think they are extraordinary, and in an ordinary day they think they are unusual, they enter a string of ordinary words that are not ordinary, and create this abnormal ordinary posting. There are not too many so-called rules, do not set up the constraints of the box, do not have a clear theme of thought, simple and easy, free and casual, free speech.

Hopefully, for you, and for him (her), it is also a place to play as you wish.

I hope it's a place for you, and for him or her, to have fun.