This weekend Stevel and I played many rounds of a game called Wordigo, which is more fun even than Scrabble, and which I pronounce like word-E-go, and which Stevel pronounces like “vertigo.”

In addition, we did some chillin’ around the house. Steve got a new pinball game for his Nintendo, so he played that some, and he also did some Dance-Dance-Revolution dancing with Mario, plumber-by-day, salsa-guapo-by-night. Finally, he read some in the new David Rakoff book. After one of the many times I heard him laugh as he read, I asked him to quote me the funny passage. Says Rakoff:

“I am no fun at all. In fact, I am anti-fun. Not as in anti-violence, but as in anti-matter. I am not so much against fun—although I suppose I kind of am—as I am the direct opposite of fun. I suck the fun out of a room. Or perhaps I’m just a different kind of fun; the kind that leaves one bereft of hope; the kind of fun that ends in tears.”

“You identify with that, don’t you,” I asked Stevel.

“Yeah, I do,” he said.