I have nothing to say.

Photo by Mohnish Landge on Unsplash

Look, it’s true confession time. I don’t have a foggiest idea of what I am going to write about. No idea. No plan. Basically, this is going to be written in the spirit of James Joyce, sort of a stream of consciousness offering.

Right this moment I can only think in TV shows, but my last column was about that. I was thinking about dipping deep into my childhood memories, but I also just had some wine, and am feeling warm…