Will recently bragged to his friend "there is no To-Do list" as in 'life is so fretless there's not even a bunch of shit that needs tending to'. Truth is, Will needs to work on Self Deprecation if he's serious about 'having it already except for the text' in case that Knopf guy gets back to him, or if any of them get back to him. He shamelessly goes to the very last chapter, "What's the point?" and cheats like the malingering wordsmith he is, and uses it's boundless topicity to write whatever he wants on any subject he wants - all under the guise of "what's the point?"

What do you get when you cross Lena Dunham with Matthew Weiner? Erica Jong with a bald head and a dick. Will is so entranced by these two TV standouts that it's like he 's never read anything of substance recently (partially true) but so what? good shit is good shit regardless of the peer review. Today the TED lady described her stroke from a neuro professional's description of it. It was illuminating. It shook us like the tectonic gods were copulating or as our girl in the northwest might put it, "shifting". We can't stand still while Father Time does the Shuffle because love is a daily thing that needs no encouragement except layout on the Simmons' miracle and a little rub-a-dub-dub. Hannah and Draper - now there's a pairing that'll flummox the unflappable.