Commiserations for that which ails thee and congratulations for surviving to survive it.

Once more unto the breach we swoop and, as we do so (affording you as I might the benevolence of presuming your fluency in Shakespeare), I implore you to rise above extracting a nationalist intent from the first clause of this sentence.

Okay, I love my country. That isn't a crime yet. It was an innocuous employment of some good ol' Henry V. Nothing nocuous about it.

Anyway, the boys return with their extra ordinary p'dc'st.

PART 2!

Crossing the temporary finishing line (OH GOD, IT'S NOT OVER YET!) at 195 minutes, this juggernaut of tick-tock matches the run-time of Schindler's List, Spielberg's harrowing exhortation on the hazards of flamboyant apparel. To say the least.

And so...

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