Ah yes, certainly you are thinking, “Why, this old fool referred to the first installment as Part I, and suddenly he has taken to calling the next installment Act II! What wretched flip-floppery! How ever has it come to pass that any mere imbecile within striking distance of a Key-Pad might pull a similar idiotic stunt and in so doing contribute to the spectacular dumbing down of our culture and eventual societal death as we know it?! He ought to be ashamed of being the purveyor of such filth!”

Well, to these forthcoming weighty accusations, I hereby respond: It was a jest! A JEST, D— you! My G-d, I attempt to grace middle America with the talents of wit and comic timing, and the d—ed Philistines can’t even handle that! What have we come to? What hath we wrought? Perchance we may not find out before it is too late. In any event, this episode has perturbed me so that I will continue to refer to each installment in a different vein, out of sheer spite for the inability of Johnny-Red-Blooded-Middle-Classer to grasp the most rudimentary concept of Irony.

Anyhow, once I had met this Irishman with the dashing sun-shade-spectacles and the haunting refrain, I naturally fell into a Trance-like state, with his unforgettable delivery affecting me as if I had just partaken of the Finest marijuana plant alongside the dastardly ruffians of that infernal Bonnaroo Music-Festival. However, my admiration was short-lived once he failed to appreciate the legend of the only father figure I have ever had (pictured below).

Oh, ho, what a man indeed! Once the mysterious dark-clad Irish gentleman displayed his ignorance of him, I naturally assumed him to be highly intoxicated, as those of his kind so often are. Naturally, I assumed that if such antics were standard practice for this gent, I ought to be on my merry way and pay as little mind to the encounter as someone of my infinite wisdom and compassion possibly could. Bearing that in mind, I was off.

As I traversed the local thoroughfares in search of inspiration, I became utterly bemused, consumed by thought. Exactly what these thoughts were is probably best left for later exposition, although I will allow for a Sneak-Peek (TM) and share that I for a time wondered why persons would ever obfuscate an ostensibly simple statement with sundry forms of loathsome verbosity, despite incontrovertible empirical evidence that simplification would have been eminently feasible, and that their rush to impress with nigh-incomprehensibility has compromised and impeded their own cogency. (And indeed, who among us has not?)

I shall return on the morrow with more tales of my epic voyage, ones that shall hopefully have a profound effect on the very man you become. (I say “man” there as I am working under the assumption that all females are illiterate.)