Life In The Burbs

I think Jerry Seinfeld was right when he said that New York was the perfect place for a comedian. Most people are at their funniest when they are complaining.

There are a number of categories for humor though. There is the slapstick/self-depreciating humor. There is the clever, twist of logic humor. But most predominantly, and maybe because of Seinfeld, there is the neurotic, complaining observational humor. Humor that points out what is wrong in the world, so that you can at least laugh at it instead of having it drive you crazy.

The problem with living in Boxborough, is that there are no real annoyances. No thorns in my side to speak of. And the only reason I am writing this, is because I am annoyed that I have not been more annoyed, if you follow me. I no longer have to get up for a job that bores me, I don't have a car that looks like its about to fall over, and I am perfectly happy with my relationship with Heidi Klum. Life's a peach.

An unfunny, unbothersome peach. Some say happiness is defined by misery, or that humanity itself may be defined by suffering. Either way, It's harder and harder for me to come up with entries on this thing without a reason to vent... I'm sure I'll whip something up.