I'm sorry if my write-ups lack their usual wordy brilliance for the next few days. Like all of you, I'm still reeling from the death of Ernest Borgnine. But it didn't stop you guys from coming out yesterday. It's like you have some sort of
Popovian Pavlovian response to my appearance. Good show.
I'm sorry I've been so distant lately, but I feel so close to you right now. So close that I wouldn't dare punish you with that song. Here's a better one. And more importantly, an unlimited supply of functional space for you below it. It's open.