Friday Is The Day We Read Things

There is no fucking way that Tim "The Toolman" Taylor makes more money than Judge Philip Banks. Wasn't Tool Time a regional program (i.e. not syndicated) based in Detroit?

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David Cross' open letter to Larry the Cable Guy is enlightening:

You were born and raised in Nebraska (hardly The South), went to private school and moved to Florida when you were 16. This is when you developed your accent?! Not exactly the developmental years are they? At age 16 that's the kind of thing you have to make a concerted effort to adopt. Did you hire a voice coach? Or were you like one of those people who go to England for a week and come back sounding like an extra from "Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels"?

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I've read McSweeneys.net nearly every day since my senior year of college. In the last year or so, there have been a few published pieces that have really stayed with me. For example, whenever I see Wilford Brimley, I think:

As a diabetic, Kyle, I'm entitled to diabetes testing supplies and I check my blood sugar close to 329 times a day—in fact, I've checked my blood sugar 13 times since I sat down to this wonderful little meal of baby back ribs and chips.

And when I see stand-ups doing observational comedy, I think:

What's up with death? It's like: Hello? My body's going to stop working entirely at some point and nobody knows where you go after you cease to exist in this physical realm?

And when I think of Winnie the Pooh, I laugh:

So I go to get it back from him after lunch and find Winnie sitting on the floor, his hand in a honey jar, and all this paperwork, including the file I need, smeared with thick honey. It's unusable now. I might as well throw it away. Trying not to just go off on the bear, I asked him what the hell happened. He looked all confused and mumbled something about needing "a little post-lunch snack."