Absolutely nothing left in the tank today—not even enough mental bandwidth to squeeze out a Bad Movie Friday. Spent the bulk of yesterday recording the audio version of my upcoming Jazz Age yarn, an experience that has given me new respect for voice actors. You try saying “Critics and compatriots rarely stinted on superlatives” without tripping over the alliteration—not an easy feat, as I found out the hard way.
Outro-ing for the much-needed weekend with a gem from the best guitarist ever to emerge from Western Sahara. See you next week for the joyful run-up to the holidays.