A rustic and farm-to-table offering - mix your sweets, your sours and your umami into the suburban hangi oven you built out of a nearby abandoned retaining wall, stay awake for 30 hours contemplating the aromas, and then wrap it all up in that antique doily you were keeping for a special occasion.

A corporate event with a late night filter - expect the loosening of ties and the claiming of nooks. This is a perfect occasion to go around pouring everyone else's martinis, jager bombs and fire engines into one big jungle juice for your own private consumption. Garnish with a Curried Egg, and chase with a Hail Mary.

A long and late lunch date - Find your favourite corner booth, order some coffees, maybe a reuben, Irish it all up (including the sandwich) and spend the rest of the afternoon talking about the 00's as though they were the 90's. It's 2025 and its nice to be alive.

A traditional family luncheon interrupted by a federal raid - get your documents in order, finish your last morsels of designer cheddar, and pour all the burgundy dregs into one big jungle juice to drink on the ride over to the Big House - where they let you draw with crayons and yell at the clouds you're not allowed to see.

A new batch, rich with problematic & meandering overtones.

One final time before we're back recording episodes again, comes an important message from the lizard queen herself.

A important message for the piglets who value continuity and transparency. This one is for all of The Woke Little Piglets out there, which coincidentally was also the name of my old workplace Muppets cover band.

That's a lie, I actually used to have a Muppets covers band - we were called the Most Sensational Inspirational Cover Band - and we never played any gigs. We were sick though. There's still time.

*looks down at old hands, noticing new wrinkles and the mottled, under-skin stains of a long life lived. Contemplates own mortality quietly, while young birds chirp outside in a song of ignorance and abandon.*