I was going to eulogize my stepfather—but he was complicit. Still, it’s been 20 years since I’ve written a eulogy, and I’m amused by the idea. Maybe tomorrow, after I’ve sat with this for a while.

As of this writing, Elvis Presley remains dead.

They’re all witches.

Easy to love, hard to forget, lots of donuts.

Sleep sweetly suckers.

I’ve never seen a bunch of Christians work so hard to take food away from people.

Sometimes the simplest message is the most effective.

Cancel Paramount+ boycott CBS.

Some doors close slower than others.

To fight the entity, you need a couple of virgins and a bag of marshmallows.

People who say they’ve changed, haven’t, they’ve stopped pretending.

My toxic trait is thinking I’d thrive in 1970s Hollywood.

I like my compliments with plausible deniability.

Every secret hums.

Somewhere, someone says forever like it’s a password.

I’m supposed to talk to someone from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, but I’m sending an intern to do it, because I’m lazy and I don’t care.

Elevator conversation. Me: Do you find that success hums at the same pitch as exhaustion? Her: ?!?

Goodbyes look the same as reunions if you blur your eyes a little.

When someone dies, the rest of the world keeps moving, and you’re suspended in time, frozen in your grief, and in a way, you never catch up again.

Opium is the perfume of forgetting.

I’m writing a three-act off-Broadway musical about Michael Rockefeller, the Rockefeller heir who was famously eaten by cannibals.

Every time I fix one part of my life, another part starts blinking red.

Nothing collapses faster than the fantasy someone built for you.

Sometimes the difference between morality and appetite is costume design.

I grew up around an abandoned coal shaft. The locals say if you fall in, and the fall doesn’t kill you, you’ll splashdown in a pool of blind fish.

They shut down the Jaws ride years ago to make room for Harry Potter—sigh—but little me was there, in the tram, pounding my fist against the fiberglass shark, telling my father this one wasn’t scary at all.

Me, a 3-D printer, and six hours of wondering what “progress” actually means.

I just called my cat sugarplum.

Here’s a memory, one time I was talking to the girl that was on the TV series, millennium, I forget her name. Anyway, we’re talking, and I asked her a question about the Lucy Butler character, and she got really nasty about it. Good times.

I love to talk in bed. Let’s get to these expense reports.

I'm perplexed at watching pundits in the trades struggling to explain Tron Ares' disappointing opening. Was it covid? Do people just not like science fiction? etc. etc. The main reason is pretty obvious: Tron isn't a popular franchise. Nobody's interested in nostalgia for a failed 1980s project.

How to make your very own Matt Damon.

Finding out that Jared Leto kept doing his method acting shit and insisted on staying in character on the set of Tron Ares and would only answer to the name of Ares is so funny, like making a big ass douche of yourself for the third Tron movie where you play “computer program that gains feelings”

Release the Epstein files from Welcome Back Kotter.

Lick the hemlock from my lips, baby.

I’m not mourning.

We’re all fucked, and those of us who saw it coming long ago, and tried to warn the rest of you, aren’t necessarily feeling good about it now.

Look at all those money grabbing cowards who would rather capitulate than stand up, from Jimmy Fallon to The View, and there will be more.

Fight the future.

So you need to make some real friends away from the Internet.

the kimmel thing is bad but as long as they arent rounding people up indiscriminately based on race, building concentration camps and talking about eradicating those they deem sexual deviants, i think we’ll be ok

dancing is forbidden

This is excellent.

I react to a knock at the door the same was as I respond to phone calls. Play dead and wait it out.

A probable pedophile, adjudicated rapist, fascist felon has declared that if you are against fascism you are a terrorist. You now join people like Nelson Mandela and those who oppose genocide, racism, and celebrating hate mongers.

free speech costs more than a buck o five

[SpongeBob SquarePants narrator]: "Nine...years...LAY-terrr..."

You want to be alive, but they want you dead. We’re a new, well, funded democratic group that thinks you can meet them halfway.