So I sat down and watched old Burn Notice

So I sat down and watched old Burn Notice reruns. Jack Bauer was no Michael Weston. Michael Weston was like Jack Bauer on steroids. As I munched on a bag of Skittles (taste the rai

n down in Africa) I hit upon an idea: single-elimination TV badass tournament of champions! In the West bracket we'd have: Mr T, Cordell Walker, Angus MacGyver & Thomas Magnum. In

East Bracket we'd have Peter Brady, Mr. Firley, the fat dad on the Fresh Prince of Bel Air. It would be a battle to the death. Mr. T, Cordell Walker, Angus MacGyver would get a

thick kickback if they agree to be surgically fused. We've got all the celebrity deathmatch angles covered, I tells ya. Ran every combination through a BIG computer. We estimate

signed up. Starting with the Trump White House evacuees. The deathmatch between the NDAs & the book offers will decimate the lists but such is modern politics & strange bedfellows.

Throw in a pandemic, put it all in the blender, set on "agitate" for nine seconds and you've got something that resembles my brain about now. For a real treat, you can add

a freeze-dried cube of pure caffeine, a jigger of 190 proof rum, a gram of Purple Haze, and a tab of acid. You’ll believe you can grab hold of COVID’s hideous heart and flatten it.

Nose running a half-a-mile an hour, you stumble over to your concoction, this last chance to cure your disease, you chug the lot, rum, acid and all in one big gulp.

It took about 3hrs for the dancing pixies to turn into leering, malicious alienesque pirates. I tried to escape on the minute hand of the clock but soon caught up to their hour.