At this moment in really scrunched up time, I am ensconced deep in the bowels of a flying festival of contagion. The tuberculin-ward quality coughing and spewing that surrounds me and verily bathes my corporeal being in multitudinous clouds of thin expectorant mist is an icky, sticky Terry Gilliam film come to life but without the witty dialogue. A viscid, pestiferous, bilious consommé erupts from the maws of the alarmingly unwell, like pestilential popcorn exploding in a microwave.
This year it falls to me to be the last voice of DBAWIS 2014. Still decked out in my new holiday outfit, and digesting our early family Christmas dinner,
Call this a prologue if you want, but all it really is, is a FB Messenger conversation between DBAWIS contributor Darrell Vickers and myself. I love the writers who grace these pages, and Darrell (among other things, the head writer of the Johnny Carson Tonight Show for 3 years) is such a brilliant and entertaining scribe, that I can’t believe he does this for our humble pay; 2 cans of cream corn, a packet of Lik-M-Aid, and occasionally, a chicken.
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Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 