I still believe Bruce Springsteen is the greatest poet of our age, but if the guy in “Born to Run” cut me off, I’d still give him the finger.

(dies)

Oh, man, what tagline. In fact, I'm stealing it (with attribution) for my PF tag.

Cool! It just kind of popped in my head to describe the dichotomy between people/The People. It's probably a quote...I probably stole it. Nah...that's self-defeating, isn't it. But I do remember reading that Belzer is boundless in his Springsteen love, and considers him a hero(Which I remembered cause it's rather a fanboy concept that you wouldn't expect from him. Cause it sort of doesn't go with the package(um, not that package) At least on one level...you with me, babe? On another level it makes total sense.

I'd imagine Munch as more of a Lenny Bruce than a Bruce Springsteen fan. But Belzer loves the Boss.

Tagline changed at PF, with attribution.

Every comedian loves Lenny Bruce, too.(Duh.) The only Lenny Bruce story I know(but he got arrested for it so that is worth something)

He asked "How many men have ever gotten a blow job?"

Every male hand raised.

He asked "How many women have ever given a blow job?"(This was in, like, '62. I suspect polling would be different now.) But no women raised their hands.

He waited and said "Somebody's lying."

When I read he got arrested for that, I wanted a time machine so I could find that D.A. and make him watch "Comedy Jam" and Margaret Cho till he had a heart attack and died, but I'm demented like that.

erika, we're demented together, then, because that was my reaction, pretty much.

Cause if that was still true? There wouldn't be a comedian in Hollywood or NY who wouldn't have a record. Except maybe Jeff Foxworthy...his body of work remains fellatio-free from what I've seen so far.

Except maybe Jeff Foxworthy...his body of work remains fellatio-free from what I've seen so far.

"You might be a redneck if.....you're not entirely comfortable with blowjob jokes."

Right. And fanfic hasn't changed me at all...I doubt if I'd ever type that particular word at all before that, much less before twelve.

Another section, but I'm not sure it goes where I put it. Might be out of order(Not like "This whole country's out of order!" The other kind.) And I've got the hed from when L&0 shuffles off the TV coil. Go me. Anyway...

Because I love The People, but that doesn’t change the fact that individual people can be liars, killers, and just all around wastes of skin. I don’t like to say so(well, actually I do, a good kvetch clears my sinuses) But sometimes it bothered me, living so far from my principles. I have a lot of time to think about that.

As well as other things like “With great power comes great responsibility.” Being a predator was more time-consuming when I did it as a man. Before I fired that shot into what passed for Gordon Pratt’s brain, I spent the previous day and a half cultivating Pratt’s neighbor, Mrs. Bernstein. I still feel guilty about that.. She needed so badly to believe I was a nice Jewish boy who’d made the strange choice to apprehend bad guys. I felt so guilty, I let her hyperactive Jack Russell lick me.(If only that had been the only kiss I had exchanged out of guilt, but you know enough of my long, sad, romantic history for one lifetime.)

I watched and waited. The dog balked at the leash which gave me fifteen minutes, which I used that first day to follow the neighbor out and listen while she ragged about her California son-in-law. A little mamaloschen and she would have trusted me anywhere.(If she had pinched my cheek, I’d have used the Glock on myself.) She felt safe with me around, she said. Which was like a bullet in my own heart.

Then I remembered Kay lying on that dirty floor, still as any other vic, her already pale complexion like typing paper, and it stiffened my spine. And Stanley, who seemed so indestructible. Like a fucking Kodiak or something. In my mind, in the parts that were not sick with rage, anyway, I was just correcting history...making it so I had a few minutes to fire as it happened. But if Pratt had seemed one bit vulnerable or pitiful, or if I’d met the poor deluded wrecks who’d given him birth, I’dve not been able to do it. I don’t know whether to be proud or ashamed of that. So, what finally sealed his fate was being an arrogant dick.

Oh, man, Munch with the self-deconstructing of motivation in the state of undead. I love this take on his killing of Pratt, too. And remembering his passion for both Kay and Stan - still there as a vamp. There's the whole "vestiges" conundrum, and I do so love that.