In a lot of pain lately. Thankful for my black comedy friends, there is no better medicine.

Only discovered Curb Your Enthusiasm a month or so ago, binged every last episode.  Larry David has definitively proven that the perfect length of a joke is 38 minutes.

Once in a while, an old gem reappears, thank you John C. Reilly you are a genius.

And Kurt. My life would be so much poorer without you…

From Breakfast of Champions, published 1973. The more things change, the more they stay the same…

On one of my ex’es birthdays many years ago, I had spent the week earlier working on an artistic rendition of a poem by one of her favorite poets, sadly scrawled on the largest canvas I could think of, the drywall in the garage. I added a simple happy line of my own at the end. When I took off her blindfold to reveal the surprise, she was horrified that I had the arrogance to pervert such perfection. Soon after, as her disgust grew, I painted it back over in white and shame.

I can remember neither the poem nor the poet.

Update: It turns out there is precedent, thanks to a belated unearthing of yet another Vonnegut gem. However, I cannot hold KV directly responsible for the transgression, as he always breaks the fourth wall via a safety net named Kilgore Trout, or in this case, his son or some such, who writes:

If only I had the balls to own it like Kurt…

Fuck you inchworms, Larry David and Woody Allen and Evan Rachel Wood swinging for the bleachers? What a gem. I love you all. Thank you and good night.

This is the core of my beliefs. I had no idea Harrison agreed so passionately. Support Conservation International!

UPDATE: And we’re not stopping there…