To My Hosts

So the broken glass is definitely mine and I’m sorry about that. but it's just broken glass -when I was a child I really dreaded broken glass, because I heard it could work its way into your skin and just keep digging like some sort of worm. But that’s childhood. I dropped the bottle. Probably a good thing, because I was done with it. What am I saying, I’m sorry, it was good whiskey. I also ashed in the plant, but I hear that’s good for the plant there’s potassium or potash -I’m not a botantist. Look it up. What I really want to apologize for is the thing and I don’t know what to call it and I tried to look it up and that was futile and I can’t connect to the internet, but you know what I’m talking about. It was kind of broken already and that’s not an excuse, but the way it is, I mean you’ve been living with it and I’d be much surprised if you didn’t take a swing at it from time to time and I guess you didn’t, I didn’t but Lord knows its broken now, I think was broken already. Let’s work the problem. I’m writing this not because I had to go. I had to go because the whiskey is all over the place and that thing is broken and there’s some other stuff and who am I to come down on you and tell you how to live your lives, Okay.