All right. We're a day late. And, no doubt, a dollar short. Don't blame me. The Nostrumite couldn't take pen in hand (or word processor in fist) because he's in a state of permanent depression over the breakup of Al and Tipper. For him, this is like the breakup of Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis, or Idi Amin and the Ugandans, or Eng and Chang, the Siamese twins. It's a rip in the fabric of the universe. WIth something like this going on, who has time to write or narrate silly episodes of high school soap operas.
It's not easy being the Nostrumite.
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