Folks, I gotta level with you, I just don’t have it this week. Writer’s block beat me up, took my lunch money, and left me with an atomic wedgie I struggle even now to unpick. You would not believe the half-finished stinkers staring back at me from my draft, meandering gags that never get within ten miles of a punchline…some days you get the bear, some days the bear gets you. I’ll get him tomorrow.
It was a pretty slow news week anyway, and I figure we’ll all be ok if we proceed to our weekend without further contemplation of Nikki Haley’s delusions.
I apologize for breaking our date, but I like you too much to subject you to these comedic abominations. I’m kind of amazed at how unfunny I am today. This must be how Greg Gutfeld feels all the time.
Presumably, my brain will start working again in time for next week’s blog, but if not, I’m optimistic I can get a job defending Rick Scott’s plan to sunset every single federal law every five years. We’ll see. Either way, stay safe out there.