Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of March 29, 2020
Humor is not a universal language. It is, by nature and design, intended for siloing. Even the greatest broad comedy has its haters. The closest thing to universally accepted comedy is Jay Leno and, c’mon, fuck Jay Leno.
He was tired of carrying her weight. Her financial choices and responsibilities. Her alcoholism. And he knew she was tired of his drug abuse and laziness and porn addiction. And Train played. And the guy kept talking. “Thing is, man… if it weren’t for divorce, I’d have student loans.”