Jack Handey was on the Sound of Young America recently, and listening to it this morning reminded me that he's pretty much the funniest person that ever lived (sorry, Bob Odenkirk). Anyway, I went through and read everything he's written for the New Yorker in the past couple years. Sometimes, when you're just in a shitty, morbid mood for awhile, reading something so supremely stupid/awesome can be the best thing in the world.

and I'm going to memorize this piece because it is the funniest thing I've ever read in my life.