I never ask how YOU’RE doing*. How ARE you? Keeping WELL?

Good, good.

I attended a funeral last week. Nobody of particular personal significance, you needn’t send your sympathies†. H’was a business associate from the years of yester. Pitiful service. One gladdens in the plausibility of the family’s denial in insisting that the meagre turnout was a result not of Penguill’s odiousness but of the travel strains imposed by the Sinovirus.

Penguill Penfold was not a likeable man. And until one of his nearest/dearest follows Funlimited on our(my) various platforms, I say that without reservation.

What’s more, those grieving chumps had the audacity to employ Sinatra’s “My Way” as the soundtrack to Peng’s end credits. I balk not simply out of revulsion of cliché. Nor gustatory aversion. Indeed, I have some fondness fo ...