To My Dear Reader, Fizz

I do beg most humbly your pardon, dear Fizz. I'm afraid I've been just staring out the window all this while. Wool gathering they called it during my wretched days at St. Oldenbalden school, where ultimately I excelled in just one thing: how to gather wool and not get caught.

Truth be told, trying to keep soberly abreast of the daily falsums and miscreancies of Garden Broon in London and that Irish lad O'Bama in Washington have left me in a paralytic stupor. But I do thank you for nudging me awake once more; now I shall surely post more posts, knowing there is another reader other than yours truly, etc., etc., etc.

Lord Lunch
Hamsammich Castle, Worcestershiresauce, England