As you read this, I am in St. George’s Hospital, Tooting, either preparing for, or undergoing a tonsillectomy. Apparently I have the largest tonsils the inspecting doctor has seen, and they have been impairing my breathing – close readers know I sleep with a CPAP machine, with a mask that makes me look like Bane.
It could just be that I’ve been talking balls for many years, but apparently that’s not a medical definition. However I understand that the general anesthetic may finally shut me up for a bit.
So don’t expect a lot of breaking news from me. In fact don’t expect a lot from me in the next few days full stop. I’ll be convalescing for a few days until I reckon I’ll be back on board, eating lots of ice cream and screaming into the dark.
But I have lined up oodles of lovely content to run in the interim, and there will plenty of pieces from Hannah Means-Shannon, Dan Wickline and some of our contributors.
Just no one buy a comics publisher in the next couple of days okay? And I’ll see you all on the other side.
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