I don’t know if you remember me, but I used to write a column or two here back before Corona went from Beer to Pandemic, and I wasn’t nipple deep in depression and writer’s block.
It occurred to me that maybe I should stick my head out of my burrow and let you know I’m okay, but still not ready to write about my favourite subjects like Gardening, Farm Tools of History, The Humour of Carrot Top and Naked Twister. Not to mention my recent discovery of a television host who may be more annoying, desperate for your love, and as shrill as the ongoing King of Late Night Fake Laughs and Maudlin Fawning, Jimmy “Don’t Call Me Jimi” Fallon.
Anyhoo, to remind you of who I are and why I is, here’s a re-run of an interview done with the Fabulous Bill King, a treasured friend and as talented a man as you are likely to ever meet. Not only will it re-introduce me to you, but will allow me to also reassure you that given enough time, Mitch McConnell will eventually die.