August is the cruelest month
In Which Your Humble Blogger goes out back and eats some worms.
In Which Your Humble Blogger goes out back and eats some worms.
In Which Your Humble Blogger invites you to grow middle-aged along with him, the best is.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is old, he grows old, he shall wear the bottoms of his trousers rolled, but at least he’ll wear trousers, what what?
In Which Your Humble Blogger dishes.
In Which two is enough for Your Humble Blogger, but maybe more is better.
In Which Your Humble Blogger would set up a poll, if he could be arsed.
In Which Your Humble Blogger won’t get any further behind the convention. Wait, what, there’s another one? Oh, crap.
In Which Your Humble Blogger isn’t the only one running late.
In Which Your Humble Blogger breaks down the theater aspect of the convention, if not the convention aspect of the theater.
In Which Your Humble Blogger misses a lot, but does get to see one good barnburner.