To the one, we’re on cartoons at the moment. To the other, it’s been a while since we paused to sniff the rosebuds at Bug Martini. To the beeblebrox, it really is oddly timed; but then again, that’s not the kind of joke one sits on until November, lest it actually receive some rational thought, which in turn would discourage presentation. And, you know, hey, if I happened to be a dog, that I might count a fourth—and, incidentally, never leave the house for reasons best not discussed in polite company—it would be enough to say that I wish my brother George was here. Except I don’t have a brother named George.
And as to the brother I do have? Well, yeah. Raise a glass, dude.
Image credit: Detail of Adam Huber, Bug Martini.