For a moment, or a second, the pinched expressions of the cynical, world-weary, throat-cutting, miserable bastards we've all had to become disappears, when we're confronted with something as simple as a plate of food.

When dealing with complex transportation issues, the best thing to do is pull up with a cold beer and let somebody else figure it out.

Good food does lead to sex. As it should. And in a perfect world, good music does too.

I look at Guy Fieri and I just think, 'Jesus, I'm glad that's not me.'

If I'm in Rome for only 48 hours, I would consider it a sin against God to not eat cacio e pepe, the most uniquely Roman of pastas, in some crummy little joint where Romans eat. I'd much rather do that than go to the Vatican. That's Rome to me.

Assume the worst. About everybody. But don't let this poisoned outlook affect your job performance. Let it all roll off your back. Ignore it. Be amused by what you see and suspect. Just because someone you work with is a miserable, treacherous, self-serving, capricious and corrupt asshole shouldn't prevent you from enjoying their company, working with them or finding them entertaining.

Is there a sharper commentary on American culture and the world than The Simpsons?