Promises, Promises

I promised you neatness, I promised you nausea. I promised you a wedding and a war and a volcano. I promised you Dr. Michael S. Cohen and his magical wall-mounted ear-vaccum.

Here are the first two.

The others require true love, proper attire, hundreds of thousands of people and their equivalent tonnage in tanks, landing craft, ammunition and rations, millions of years of geologic time and four years at a good medical school, another several in the finest of residency programs, and what I’d imagine is a fortune in malpractice insurance.

So I’ll have those for ya next week.

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