For the last two days I’ve been preparing for an unpleasant invasive procedure that I’m not going to describe. The 24-hours-before prep is awful. I don’t want to think about it, but the bitter-licorice-tasting liquid you have to drink is nauseating.

The procedure happened today around noon. I was out for 90 or 100 minutes, and the after-effect of the knock-out sedative is still with me, like a Percocet blanket. When I returned home at 2:30 pm, I just flopped and dropped off.

Plus for the last three or four days I’ve been coping with a cough, sneezing and a runny nose. My voice is significantly deeper and more nasally as we speak. I wish I could sound like this all the time. I almost sound like Lee Marvin in The Professionals.

My health, in short, is at a low ebb, although I did receive good news from the attending physician. Don’t ask.

In Tomris Laffly’s mind, Kevin Spacey should once again be hunted down by villagers and peppered with woke buckshot…condemned, hoisted, lashed and repeatedly dunked in a lake for longer and longer periods until he, like, drowns.

If Curtis Hanson had cast me as Detective Ed Exley in L.A. Confidential, and if, during filming, Kevin Spacey (i.e., Detective Jack Vincennes) had fallen into the habit of patting my ass or whatever, I would have eventually taken him aside, looked him in the eye and said in a friendly, no-big-deal way…

“Look, Kevin…you need to let this go…nobody’s offended and we’re both cool but, you know, you aren’t going to wind up fucking me in the ass. I’m an adult and so are you but stop with the discreet overtures, okay? I’m into fucking girls in the ass, kapeesh? You can handle it, bro. Just pounce on some other dude.”

And if I had paid Spacey a visit in Savannah while he was shooting Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil a few months later, I would have re-explained things.

HE to Spacey: “I know it seems weird that I’m here in Savannah after I told you point blank that I’m not going to be your Crisco bitch, but the same deal still applies. No bending over and squealing like a pig, and I’m saying this as one who was approached at age 18 in the West Village by a 30something guy in a jacket and tie and asked ‘have you ever had your ass sucked?’ I said ‘no thanks’ then and I’m saying it again now. And it’s not a problem.”

Laffly, deep down, pines for the Joe Biden era of instant cancellation and sending offenders straight to the guillotine. Five years (‘19 through ‘23) that sent jolts of fear through the systems of arrogant conquistadors all over…she would have that time again.