The system in which I have embedded myself has its faults, some of them lampoonable.
“I really did want someone who also has to be on blast and be judged in the public forum of writing lyrics and has to sing and has to play instruments,” Bridwell continues, “someone that understands the weight that carries around with it. And someone who knows the industry side of it. That was the main lightning rod. This guy is going to get it more than anyone else could. He has been on both sides of the damn desk. At least I’ll have a good ear to bend if shit goes wrong.”
However, having accidentally-on-purpose got hold of a piece of the fish, down it went; and, apparently thinking that under the circumstances he might do worse, he set to work with no ill-will or appetite, and soon got through a good part of a haddock.
Epicœne, or The silent woman, a comœdie.
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