Like, seriously.

I was in the middle of reading José Andrés’ We Fed an Island when I stopped. (Milan, I’ll get your copy back to you soon.) Why? It was all just too depressing. The book, yes, but also life in general at the time.

I didn’t read one word out of a book in the entirety of 2021. It’s insane for me to even type that out because I love to read. But at the time I just had this feeling of… I don’t know. What does it matter? I guess that sounds about right.

Anyway, after nearly a year and a half of not reading, I finally picked up a book. I started with American Cult: A Graphic History of Religious Cults in America from the Colonial Era to Today, which is an anthology graphic novel published by Robyn Chapman of Paper Rocket Minicomics and Avi Ehrlich of Silver Sprocket. It collects 18 different stories about, you know, American cults.

"American Cult: A Graphic History of Religious Cults in America from the Colonial Era to Today"

It was a quick but fun read. If cults are your thing — learning about them, not joining them — check it out.

Next up is Marx (A Brief Insight) by Peter Singer.

"Marx (A Brief Insight)"

I came across this one in a Little Free Library near our place and figured I’d give it a try. Admittedly, I know little about Marx, but I am excited to learn more about him while also freaking out my father-in-law in the process.

It feels pretty good to have fallen off the non-reading wagon. Maybe it’s a sign I’m finally becoming more hopeful for the future. That, or I’m just bored to death.

Gotta be one of those two,


…I had a meeting at CBS Studio Center (AKA Radford Lot) in Studio City.

To be clear, I only know the exact date because it’s saved in my calendar.

Anyway, though I had been on many lots before, I had never been on that one. Radford is a small but cool lot with a ton of film and television history.

Case in point: the parking lot was full, and so they had me park on “New York Street” which basically served as every neighborhood exterior shot on Seinfeld.

After my meeting, I was walking down the middle of the “street” when a car turned a corner ahead and started slowly driving toward me. I stepped to the side and, as the car approached, smiled and nodded at the two people inside.

The person behind the wheel was, I assume, a driver for the person sitting in the passenger’s seat: Betty White.

She smiled back and raised her hand to me as the car passed.

And that was a pretty cool moment.

RIP, Betty.

And then there were no Golden Girls,



Don’t get the reference? Click here!

‘Cause your crystal ball ain’t so crystal clear,



…for this amazing Pee-wee ornament!

Hoping Amazing Larry doesn’t eat this one,



First we got this acrylic ornament from GroovyGalaxy

Mothman from GroovyGalaxy!

…and we also got this felt piece from FetrucioArtDecor.

And another Mothman from FetrucioArtDecor!

Last year’s monster was an obvious one,


Our 2021 Krampus ornament from FeltMagick!

…handmade by FeltMagick!

Last year’s Krampus,


This is Halloween!

…from the Spider, Pirate Incredible Hulk, Nathan Wind as Cochese, and Sir Stewart Wallace as himself.

Just wait until you see this year’s holiday card,


…for my good friend Neal E. Fischer’s Triviality podcast!

Grey and West may even make an appearance, so check it out on your podcast service of choice, or connect directly to it here.

They’re never too young to learn about onscreen kills,


PS: If you missed me playing as a Triviality guest last year, check that out here.

You down with AP?

…by the Associated Press for this article.

No shame in bribery,



…which is why I’ll be deleting my account this Friday.

I realized this fact today only because Twitter sent me a notification congratulating me on this supposedly glorious milestone. Unfortunately, it backfired, because seeing that number made me feel sick to my stomach.

Thirteen years is a long time. Thirteen years ago, I was still living in a house in Milwaukee with my girlfriend and a roommate. Mr. Fabulous was my only pet, and she was essentially still just a puppy.

Since joining Twitter, I moved to L.A. with my girlfriend (and adopted two cats, Meatshake and Heisenberg). My girlfriend became my wife, then a few years later the mother of our two children. We moved to Chicago and bought our first place together, and adopted three more cats: Exhibit Q; Bad Guy, and Robot. Sadly, Meatshake, Mr. Fabulous, and Exhibit Q have now all left us.

Over the past thirteen years, friends and family have gotten married and divorced. They’ve welcomed newborn babies into their lives, and some of them have died far too young. (The friends and family, not the newborn babies.)

So yeah, a lot can happen in thirteen years.

And that got me thinking: Over the past thirteen years, how much time have I killed on Twitter? So I did some math.

For the sake of argument, let’s say I spent, on average, five minutes a day on Twitter. It’s probably a lot more than that, but let’s just say five minutes for some easy math. Five minutes a day is 1,825 minutes a year. Multiple that by thirteen years and you get 23,725 minutes. Divide that by 60 and you get just shy of 400 hours. Divide that by 24 and you get 16.5 days of nonstop Twitter scrolling.

I’ll round that up to 17 days, but I’m sure the actual, more accurate number would be more than double that. Maybe even triple.

That’s 17 days I could’ve spent doing literally anything else. Playing with my kids, listening to music, taking photos, writing, traveling, calling some of those friends and family on the phone and having an actual conversation. You can do a lot of shit with an extra 17 days.

The thought of hitting my 15th or 20th or 25th Twitter anniversary scares the shit out of me. How many more minutes and hours and days can I waste if I stay?

But that’s just part of it. The other part — the bigger part of it, to be honest — is that, like Facebook, I hate who I am on Twitter.

Many of you know I’m quick to let assholes know they’re assholes, and I don’t suffer fools gladly. But the question I’m constantly asking myself is, do I have to? And the answer is always the same: nah, it’s not worth it. They’re not worth it.

So yeah… thirteen years seems like a good time to take a bow and exit the stage.

So thanks to Twitter for reminding me about just how much of my life I’ve wasted on its platform. I couldn’t have pulled the plug without you.

Two social media platforms down, one to go,


Old Poop!