Knowledge and how it's dropped.

I was going to try and launch into some James Lipton-esque diatribe on the genius of Patton Oswalt. For fear I may lose you before you click here for a transcript of Patton's speech at his alma mater high school, I'm going to give the keys a rest and allow myself to be a vessel into one massive chunk of wisdom. And jokes.

Happy Birthday, I'm 43.

Patton Oswalt is a lot of things to me. Okay, maybe he's mostly just one thing to me, a cyclone of razor-sharp comedic genius easily worthy of way more than just blog in his honor. So it seemed eerily appropriate not 2 days after I finally lost my KFC Famous Bowl virginity that he publish the account of his run-in with the cozy artery-galvanizing monstrosity, via The Onion. Although I stand in polar opposition to his stance on the starchy, salty delight; I am once again in his debt as he has supplied me with yet another slab of blogitorial (is that even a word?) glee. I defy you to find a more stark and gritty snack review, on or off-line. I feel like I'm actually there in the bowl. Blanketed with gravy and regret. Thanks Patton!