[moovova]

I’ve only personally known a couple of guys that were non-stop comedians. Guys that could just start taking and everything that came out of their mouths was funny. All original, non-repeat...just stringing stuff together that kept you laughing. You knew they’d hit their stride when you were laughing so hard you couldn’t even catch your breath. It’s like “Stop...please stop, I’m dying!”

What a talent. It was such a pleasure to know them.

[PJ-Comix]

You described my Uncle Marty. That is why the Mob guys liked to hang out at his airport bar. For the laughs. Had some fringe benefits. Like the time his son, Cousin Jerry, wanted a certain electric guitar. Uncle Marty got on the phone but called himself "Mike" which he used when he got serious. After some discussion he was directed to drive to a distant city neighborhood and wait until a certain car pulled up.

Okay we drove to the neighborhood and parked on the designated block. Then we waited and waited and waited... When I started complaining about the loooong wait and nothing happening, Uncle Marty told me to shut up. He was a man on a mission. Finally, after even more time elapsed, a black car pulled up next to our car. A window went down in the black car and a pair of hands handed an electric guitar to Uncle Marty. And that was it.

No questions were asked because we knew there would be no answers.