I was just watching Extreme Makeover : Home Edition...and I suddenly realized the graceless state of emotional bankruptcy I have been living in. I realize now that what I really need to do is quit my "life." What I really need to do (he says applying Belgian lip gloss, lying on his Swedish Memory foam bed, covered in Egyptian cotton 600 thread count sheets as not to bruise his oh-so-sensitive skin) is get some orphans. Latinos or Sri Lankins, something exotic. Black kids is so obvious, everyone's done little black kids - it's become so season one, know what I mean? So I get these kids, these Eskimo orphans, quintuplets, that were left for dead on some shrinking ice patch and tended to only by seals for their first few years, UNTIL I happened upon them, crack their Eskimo sign language, decide to adopt them, learn them how to read and play Football and swallow down cheese covered chili like it was water and other great America traditions. I accidentally lost my city-monument-home in an electrical fire, while tutoring Rwande-refugee-rape-camp-victims in abstinence and self defense. That was just after I gave all my money to the poor, I mean I wanted to keep some of it, but the spirit of giving swept over me and now I'm stuck with nothing to raise the Eskimos with but a beaten up copy of the Oresteia and a-whole-lot-of love, I mean I really love these children...Did I mention the quintuplets are blind, clumsy and one of them is a conjoined twin, so technically it's six mouths to feed. I've taken a job as a lunch lady to try and make rent on mini-van I got on consignment. But the debt just keeps adding up and I'm drowning under it's weight, I'm only one man, one little man in a big bad helpless world. Help me ABC. Help me Extreme Makeover : Home Edition. Help me put a brand new (ugly-taste-free-pre-fab) roof over the six heads of my five blind clumsy adopted Eskimo children, who are all having trouble getting their green cards. Help me feed these kids, it's hard importing so much Sea Lion blubber for them to eat in the back of the mini-van, work six jobs and pay for their gall bladder medication. Please build them an ice pen, so they can feel like they're in their natural habitat, right in the parking lot of the Echo Park Vons where I park the van, or what we call...(getting choked up...) what we call...(...but fighting through it)...home. What the kids really need is luge lessons and a pottery wheel. And for me, I don't need-a-nothing ABC, nothin' at all, but (to do a little minstrel dance and) see the smiles on the six faces of those five beautiful blind Eskimos kids...and know I have found my purpose (for one hour, forty two minutes with commercials) as the head of this beautiful, beautiful family.