Just a quick one, because there’s some shit going on right now and it’s getting hectic around here and I’m trying to get things handled and figure out how I’m going to tell you about it without incurring the wrath of sharks in shiny suits.  Or getting too wordy—I know how y’all hate it when I get wordy.

Me.  I know it, you don’t have to tell me.

I’ll probably split it into parts or something.  So that’s a thing to look forward to, right?

Fine, enough about that… I’ll be accused of teasing you if I keep on it.  The quickie!

Here’s my ongoing issue: he still thinks he’s funny.  Which really wouldn’t be a problem except that he is manifestly not.  It’s just that he is a brilliant man who also says and does ridiculous things for reasons I have yet to determine.  That’s not the same as being funny, is it?  Robin Williams, mayherestinpeace, was funny.

I wonder if his wife ever rolled her eyes so hard she sprained something?

Also me.

ME:  Shut up.  No one thinks you’re funny.
HIM:  I’m… not… I wasn’t trying…
ME:  Oh, yes you are.  You’re standing there all “look at me, I’m clever and know things” but you’re not funny, mister.
HIM:  That… wasn’t supposed to be funny.  That was just a statement of fact.  This is funny.
ME:  No it isn’t!
HIM:  (laughs)  Then why am I laughing?
ME:  (incoherent screech)
HIM:  (hysterical laughter)
ME:  I hate you!
HIM:  (still laughing)  I love you!