In Which Your Humble Blogger readily admits that NTLive is not a substitute for actual live, but second best is better than nothing.
In Which Your Humble Blogger looks to the past and the future.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is quite cranky, innit?
In Which Your Humble Blogger played Barrymore's ghost, in the past.
In Which Your Humble Blogger rambles for a while, parleyvoo; Your Humble Blogger rambles for a while, parleyvoo; Your Humble Blogger rambles for a while and then asks for your input on an important question, hinky-dinky-parleyvoo.
In Which Your Humble Blogger got a feeling called the bloo-oo-oos, and is nobody's sugar daddy now.
In Which Your Humble Blogger loves the theater, and the charming people in it.
In Which Your Humble Blogger finds a little research to be a dangerous thing; drink deep or taste not the, er, really, in this case perhaps the drinking metaphor is not altogether appropriate.
In Which Your Humble Blogger still doesn't hate Hamlet.
In Which Your Humble Blogger's Tohu Bohu has also become something Gentle Readers used to enjoy probably more than once.
