Really funny, gross piece. What I Learned From One Month Of Not Eating Raw Chicken by Gregory Erskine.
Started reading: 2001: A Space Odyssey by Arthur C. Clarke š
Read this one before, but reading it again as an impromptu book club after seeing the movie again in 70mm at the MOMI.
Since moving in with my roommates, we've watched a lot of movies together. They are almost exclusively horror. I'm not mad. šæ
Susuru Ramen in Astoria is the best ramen, full stop. š
TIL that in JavaScript, non-strict mode is called sloppy mode.
Letters To Doless
Well, itās happened. Iāve finally decided to forego creating new material this week, and instead respond to letters from you, the readers. Unfortunately, I havenāt received any letters to respond to, so I will be forced to make them up. Hereās one from little Lucy Palmer of Columbus, Ohio.
Dear Silence Doless,
Why am I writing this letter? Was it really necessary to create fictional characters to fill up your humor column? Personally, I think itās downright unethical. Donāt you have to follow some journalistic moral code, or something? You should be ashamed of yourself.
Sincerely, little Lucy Palmer.
P.S. How did you imagine the Chronicle getting all the way to Ohio?
Well Lucy, first off Iām a humor columnist, not a journalist, which basically frees me from any moral obligation whatsoever. I can pretty much make up anything I want to and get away with it. I donāt have to pay taxes, for example. As long as it falls under the category of satire, essentially meaning, āmaking fun of peopleā, itās fine.
For another example, if I was a regular feature writer I couldnāt be having this conversation with you (at least not on paper). While that would be wonderful (thatās satire), I also couldnāt insult President Stuart Rabinowitz on a regular basis, which more than makes up for the drawbacks. As for if I find it necessary to have fictional people write me letters, the short answer is yes (as is the long answer). Iām going to write a letters column by God, and nobody, pretend or otherwise, is going to stop me.
Oh, and the Chronicle gets to Ohio via stork. Has anyone even seen a stork in real life? Exactly, theyāre all busting their ass in my imagination delivering Chronicles to Ohio.
Next letter!
Dear Silence Doless,
This is President Stuart Rabinowitz, and it is my distinct pleasure of saying that your humor columns are disgraceful and slanderous. Never in my life have I read such rude and derogatory rubbish. You think Iām not āhipā to what goes on at this University? Did you honestly think you could just insult me right under my very nose? Think again Doless. It is high time you paid for your crimes. Not with a duel or even jail, but with money. Thatās right, Iām raising your tuition. In fact, I might as well raise tuition for the entire school while Iām at it. Mwahaha, with the money Iāll buy a med school! How do you like them apples, Columbia?
Ah Rabinowitz, my old arch nemesis. The tighter you squeeze, the more students will slip through your fingers. The more you raise tuition less and less people will be able to afford Hofstra until one day the only people who can are spoiled Long Island kids. Great Rabinowitz, I really want some ugg-wearing snob with a hangover and a fake orange tan operating on my spine. Seriously, the only other people who will go are sick people who still think itās the Nassau Community Hospital.
Ok, we have time for one more letter.
Dear Silence Doless,
Fred Doogleberry from Columbus, Ohio; get these storks out of my house. I donāt want your paper, and I donāt care about Long Island; get these birds off my patio, out of my chimney, and away from my kids! Iām also suing you three thousand dollars for damages. My sofa is torn to shreds and the varmints keep crapping on my wife. I want them out immediately.
Sincerely, Fred.
Fred, I would love to help you out, but solving your imaginary problem would involve creating some sort of new material, which I decided I wouldnāt at the beginning of this column.
Goodnight.
You know what? Not bad.
Had the pleasure of performing in the Baltimore improv festival this weekend. Had a blast. Thank you to all the organizers and everyone who came out!
I came up with a knock knock joke in improv rehearsal today.
Knock knock.
Whoās there?
Hi.
Hi who?
Sounds silly!
I can only apologize.