Love, Faulkner, and Michael Richards

A few questions and responses about love, Faulkner, and Michael Richards from readers who may or may do not exist:
John, what do I do when I get the “Just Friends” speech from a woman?

Simple: Take her up on it. Next time she goes to the lady’s room to blow a few rails, tell her she has to take you with her.

Because THAT'S Friendship.

John, I understand you finally rid yourself of three months worth of unrecycled newspapers. Why the sudden change?

Well, push came to shove and that’s exactly how I got them out the door.

John, what do you do when someone is telling an anecdote but just won’t get to the fucking point?

I give them a wide berth. But if parenthetical leads to parenthetical leads to em-dashing of an exorbitant amount, I tell Faulkner to get to the fucking point.

You call him Faulkner? Why not “Joyce” or "Pynchon"?

Faulkner’s funnier.

John, is there anything good to come out of this Michael Richards imbroglio?

Well, let’s see … CNN found out Sinbad was still alive and conscious enough to say something: So, I guess we can consider the silver lining found.

Any other opinions on the matter?

I think Barbara Walters is going to have one helluva year. Scratch that: I think AA is going to have the helluva year. Babs will place, though.

To whom should he apologize?

Well, first to the black men whom he insulted. Then to the rest of the audience. And, finally, to anyone who has to sit through a Michael Richards joke at their local Yuk Yuk’s for the next -- and we can only hope -- six months.

Do you think he’s honestly sorry he did it?

I think anyone standing to make money off of “Seinfeld” Season 7 is honestly sorry he did it.
Today’s lesson: Actually, there is one more silver lining and it’s for whomever is doing PR for “Apocalpyto”: Suddenly, Mel Gibson isn’t the worst racist in LA anymore (but then again: was he ever?).

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