Apology for apology

It seems Andy, his eccentric gut, eclectic literature and possibly too many apricots have driven him to madness. Apologies are fruitless. The only foreseeable cure is to follow the opinions of Hitler and Hume and commit all his fiction to the flames (the more fanciful bits of lonely planet guides excluded at this point).

Sorry. Is this all seeming a bit contrived? Should we leave and have supper? Don’t worry the proper entries are almost done.