“Should you happen to be possessed of a certain verbal acuity coupled with a relentless hair-trigger humor and surface cheer spackling over a chronic melancholia and loneliness, a grotesquely caricatured version of your deepest self, which you trot out at the slightest provocation to endearing and glib comic effect, thus rendering you the kind of fellow who is beloved by all yet loved by none, all of it to distract however fleetingly from the cold and dead-faced truth that with each passing year you face the unavoidable certainty of a solitariy future in which you will perish one day while vainly attempting the heimlich manuever on yourself over the back of a kitchen chair, then this confirmation that you have triumphed again and managed to gall yet another mark, except this time it was the one person you hoped might be immune to your ever-creakier puddle-shallow sideshow barker variation on adorable, even though you’d been launching this campaign weekly, with a singleminded concentration from day one, well, it conjures up feelings that are best described as mixed, to say the least.”

-David Rakoff