Oh, Goddamit to hell.

The deepest heart and the widest grin and the brightest wit in all of Mudcatland, and an honest friend. He was the bright light that drew me in to this motley landscape and the best voice in all the chorus that kept me coming back over the years.

NOW what are we gonna do? No-one else can even pronounce jadrool broke-dick mammalucca correctly. There's never been a broader reach or a deeper vision or a funnier rap in all our millions.

I can only hope that when he comes back--oh, I am sure he will have to after all that wicked karma mechanics -- that he retains all his inimitable vocabulary, his wicked sensa yewma, his brightness of eye and the wicked glint in his eye, and the unending enthusiasm and affection for life in all its forms (except for jadrools).

Bless you, auld Pat. You are one of a kind. May the wind always be at your back, and may you be forever young. I love you.