Doyce came over on Wednesday, finally!

I wonder if he has dreams about his cel phone in which it doesn’t ring–it crawls out of its holster, and sloooowly creeps up his shoulder and whispers in his ear, “Phone call, ssssir…” Then it clasps his ear in an embrace best described by H. P. Lovecraft.

Apparently the man is doing cool things with ’30’s-era pulp fiction & radio melodrama, in relation to RPG’s. And he’s busy. And he thinks bad puns deserve a good glare now and then.