He’s like the Kinja of presidents: Ugly by design, never wants to work and is preoccupied with making everything a white space.

As a native Texan I can say I have never gotten that impression ?

This sounds like someone just mashing their action figures together.

And let us all sit here and judge the timing and appropriateness of everything you have done in your life, according to other people’s own moral compass about timing. I guarantee you, nothing you have done will come out right. Because they. are. not. you.

This does not mean that he has stopped mourning. He just made room for love that is in his life right now too.

Uh, Patton Oswalt is always going to mourn his wife. Falling in love with someone else and getting married doesn’t negate the love one has for their deceased spouse. His new wife doesn’t delete Michelle McNamara, and if she’s a half-decent person, she knows that. Mazel to him and Meredith and Alice, who seem very…

Nope, too soon. It’s none of my business and I’m glad they’re all happy but all the hair stands on the back of my neck when this happens

It would be too soon FOR YOU. Grief affects each of us differently, and there is no timetable that we all must follow.

Looking forward to this comment section.

Are you ok? Seriously, about half way through your unpacking I got a little dizzy. That you managed to come through that, and not be babbling incoherently like you just met a lovecraftian monster in the flesh, is quite admirable.

Also, i kept thinking that I’d come to the point where there’d be a funny-ish way to end it all, but it never came.

Holy shit. That was just one sentence, wasn’t it?

Allow me to commend you on your Herculean effort to unpack that one sentence. Yeah. Let me repeat that. ONE. SENTENCE.

I went to read the actual article. There’s some stuff I GUESS you’d have to see the movie to know, but I’m not 100 percent certain it couldn’t have been pulled from the press kit he was no doubt sent.

I’m going to try to upack one paragraph of this drivel as I am a masochist:

To pen an authentic and intellectual cinema review – the kind worthy of publication in America’s snootiest airport magazine – one must remember to include countless, such as it were, asides and clauses, seemingly without a purpose other than rendering one’s prose an inarticulate gruel of half thoughts, all while…