To be honest, I am.
The Bostonian Drunkard lives on adulation, and I suspect that only the primitives on Skins's island, being simple-minded, thought highly of him. Surely it's not possible anyone else does.
So I speculated he'd be back a long time ago now, hoping to get his ass kissed.
This is not the same thing as saying I miss him; I don't. And I think Skins's island is tons, mountains, better off without his flatulence.
And I'll bet his dear old decrepit mom's happy he's gone too; that had to be constantly embarrassing for her, watching her son shoot off his potty-mouth, using language and vulgarities that adult males who truly love and respect their mothers would avoid.