Eat one for me Boys!!!

Unfortunately, your humble narrator was forced to hang-up the blue bathrobe. Once, I soared high up in the clouds and dared to touch the sun, but my wax tipped feathers failed and I spiraled back down to the harsh cold sadness that is Corporate America.

Chained to mission statements by my Blackberry, I will not be able to partake in Denny's latest bargain-y goodness:



Tim, Joel, Frank, Terrance, John, my friends, my countrymen, my compatriots, my brothers, eat a Grand Slamwich for me, your fallen friend.