You’re no Dick Gold, and neither am I
Unfortunately, hermandousness is all too scarce these days. I should find this irksome, but I don’t.
If any part of this ’70s album cover from godawful St. Petersburg, Florida lounge singer and comic Dick Gold makes sense to you, then you are blessed with gifts that I am not.
1,037 apologies for the hideous 4-day lull in posting. I’m currently in the process of moving to a new house and jettisoning 5+ years of accumulated crap. So my fingers are riddled with paper cuts, it hurts to type, and all I seem to do lately is cram the remaining crap I do have into boxes. Try not to fret, friends—the day of reckoning is Saturday.