By David Himmel

• I loath Chicago spring. The rollercoaster of weather… warm to snow, bright to rain, rain to snow to warmtoicetodarknessto sun… It’s like being in hospice without any of the pain-killing drugs. It’s like being tied to a spring mattress with car battery clamps on your nipples as your exes crank up the voltage sending emotional abuse throughout your withering body. It’s like living in Chicago.

• Gay men have such fit bodies. I’m envious. I think I’d have bigger muscles if I were gay. Now, I could lift more weights, but at this point, being gay seems easier.

• The Oscars ought to stop trying to be anything but super wealthy people lauding themselves for making other super wealthy people wealthier while increasing their own wealth. Be what you are. Live your truth. Bask in your elitism. We’ll all keep watching because poor people love watching the rich. How many Real Housewives are there now? Long live the ghost of Robin Leach. Don’t come down to our level, we want to pretend we’re at yours, you egomaniacal freaks.

• For the record… I will always be okay with anyone making a good-natured joke about my scar. “David, I love you. Can’t wait for Scarface 2.”

• It’d have been better if Jada had gotten up and smacked Chris Rock. He could have responded with, “A Dora Milaje just slapped the shit out of me.” Two bald woman jokes for the price of one.

• Roxanne Gay’s guest column in the New York Times about being thin skinned and not having to take a joke is the best April Fool’s joke I’ve ever seen.