From the Hamlet of Edinburgh, Scotland, this is obscure, Season 3, Wuthering Heights.

I am your host, your friend, your lover, your literary mansplainer in chief, and Georgia

andologist Michael E. and Black Southern Gentleman S. Quire just arrived in the bunny highlands

of Scotland having undergone a considerable journey, felt longer than I was anticipating and

involved a little bit of stress as I misplanned my flight from Savannah to Atlanta, did not

give myself enough time to transfer in Atlanta to my flight to London and ended up like

one of those jerks you see running through the airport, wheeling their suitcase, panting,

screaming out of my way, out of my way, I have a flight to catch.

I couldn't scream because I was so out of breath after about two gates, you know that

first gate you're running by and you think I'm going to be fighting, by the second gate

I'm out of breath, I'm thinking well they're just going to have to leave without me because

I can't run all the way, well you hear that, I don't know if you hear that sound, something

scary outside my window they're here in Edinburgh, I thought well I'm not going to make it

so they're just going to have to leave without me, because I had to get from one end of

the airport to the other and as you probably know Atlanta is one of the biggest airports

in the world and it's busy as heck and so much trouble getting from one end to the other,

but I did make it, got on my flight and I was probably, oh I don't know, halfway across

the Atlantic Ocean before I realized oh I forgot to bring my copy of weathering heights and

I felt like a real heel, you know, sitting there in my economy class seat, trying to

get through whatever movie I was half watching and not enjoying and oh it was terrible, terrible

terrible moment of realization, shame washed over me, because here I am, I promised you

I said the next episode of weathering heights going to be from Edinburgh, going to be from

...