Mamma mia! Take a depressed dude (hi!) and mix-in some insane work schedule, and what do you get? Just an absolute fucking absence from the digital universe. Specifically, his own Space-Ship. For that, I’m sorry. Apologies, my friends! Apologies. I’m trying. And I suppose that’s really all any of us can be doing in the Year of Misery, 2020.

Shit’s just hard right now! Damn hard. Which means I’m retreating into a cocoon of silence, watching my favorite comedies such as Always Sunny for momentary amusement, and trying and failing to sleep.

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Views From The Space-Ship! Where I yank back the scab obfuscating my Realm from the All-Peering Eyes of you Internet Lords. Bask in confirmation of my tangibility. Bow your head, humbled, knowing that such refuse as myself runs free within the Kingdom. Then share looks into your own world. Virtual and Literal.

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It’s back, muthafugga, it’s back.

If you followed OL in the formative days, you know all about the glory that is the Friday Brew Review. If you’re new to this scene, let me clue you in: I like the taste of beer. I like the way it makes me feel. I like its ability to make my jokes funnier and women seem more attractive. So for your benefit, I will drink cold ones and describe the experience.

It’s pretty straight-forward.

So after a sabbatical that saw me averting death, deciding on a career, and becoming a more positive member of society, I’ve decided to bring back the Brew Review. Truthfully, I can’t guarantee that I’ll toss one up every week. But what I can promise is that when I do unholster the gun, I’m going to smoke every motherfucker in the saloon.

That’s right, I’m like a retired gunfighter, being called out of retirement for one more fucking showdown.

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