the early years the friends the family the mom the wife the TV producer the ham the driver

Sue and Eugene Get Blurry

Whether the psychological damage has had any long lasting effects still remains to be seen. This kind of evaluation should only be done by professionals. All I know is – I’m not the man I was. Before the syndrome known as the “Span Coff Club” came into being, I was a vibrant, optimistic, fun loving, confident you man in love. I had met the sweetest, purest most innocent girl to ever have come out of York Mills. Little Debbie. And she had just got her first job – working in the exciting field of television. At a place called Global.

“It’s a really tough profession to get through,” I said. “Find a friend. Someone who can help you through the dark times.” That friend turned out to be someone called Broph.

Next thing I know everything was Broph this and Broph that and Broph did this and Broph said that. Next thing you know she’ll be taking you to a bar. For liquor drinks, I thought.

When I got my first call from the Span Coff Club I was excited. I thought my sweet Little Debbie had found an organized group, some new friends to help her get through the loneliness of being “on the road” with this Wintario show. Every call from the Span Coff Club made me feel like a million. She’s working her way right up through the ranks of this club, I mused. I wouldn’t be surprised if she ran for president one day.

Well, here’s the irony of this sad tale. For a man who spent so many years in the field of comedy, the joke, it turned out, was on me. For the Span Coff Club was an association all right – an association predicated on the consumption of Spanish Coffee drinks! Booze!! Laughs! Good times! Everything my little Debbie from York Mills would have shunned, if it hadn’t been for the unquestionable influence of a certain someone called Broph.

Well, little Debbie is no longer the pure innocent thing she was. The Span Coff Club saw to that. And me? Well, I guess I kinda lost my faith in humanity. And I guess I got a little quieter. And perhaps slightly more boring. And my eyesight got much worse. And I’m still not getting romantic leads. And I blame the Span Coff Club, and above all, this someone called Broph.


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