Hey, this is delicious.
Do you like naked from scratch?
No, it's from the packet.
It's probably just good because I know you made it.
Sometimes I just think you're too good for me, babe.
I mean, I look around in my backyard, the furniture you helped me pick out,
the screen where we do our monthly guitar screenings, the repurposed shale inlaid tile,
and then I turn and I see you.
You're not like other girls, babe.
It's like you see me, but for who I really am.
I've been hanging out for like a year now and you know, I like to think I'm better at listening
and communicating and that stuff than other dudes, but I'm not perfect.
Well, maybe I haven't, like, always listened to you, just a thought.
That's why I just want to say in this beautiful moment,
my backyard, Brooklyn, with this beautiful girl, babe, I think you could ever be like my...
girlfriend?
Well, all I can think to say to that is...
It's gross, babe.
It's been a hard day.
We lost Martha.
It's hitting everybody hard.
No one's biting, but I don't have much of an appetite either.
Okay, let's get the show on the road.
We are gathered here tonight to celebrate the life of Martha.
Martha, the 13th generation native of my pubic hair.
My daughter Vincent and Mona showed an early talent for impressions.
She did a spot on impersonation of her older sister Brenda talking about Ronnie,
the boy across my perineal and who she had to crush on.
How are you, Brenda?
I can't imagine what you're going through.
Yes, this would be easier if my wife hadn't left us.
It is selfish and unfeeling of her, I agree.
But we have each other.
We lost Martha this morning.
I felt a pang of shock and pity when I saw her little body careening toward the shower drain.
Thank God I have that netting in place.
But this is not how we will remember her.
Perhaps one of her children would like to speak.
I don't know.
Be strong.
That was a memorable anniversary.
She was crushed when Maury passed.
And she said that.
My red sauce made my blood taste immaculate.
She used that word.
I'm so touched.
The secret is canned tomatoes, not fresh.
I wish I could have told her that.
Nobody else?
I understand.
I know how hard loss can be.
But she loved you all now.
Oh boy.
We say goodbye.
To Martha, Pensionhurst.
It is the Inuit tradition to return the loved one to sea.
And with fire, we convert you, Martha, back into energy.
So that you'll always be in our atmosphere.
Would anyone like to kiss her one last time?
Donovan, no. You can't go with her.
You have a wife and 300 newborns to think of.
Goodbye, Martha.
I will always love you.
I will always love you.
I will always love you.
Times like this make it also fresh again.
Losing my Linda.
I start to think I hear a knock at the door or the sound of her laugh.
But when I check, there's no one there.
Whenever I lose one of these little guys,
I'm taken back to that pit of my depression.
And each time, I'm not sure I'm going to be able to climb back out of it.
How often does this happen?
Only every 40 hours or so.
What were your parents like?
My mother was very protective of me.
Oh, yeah.
My other girls made fun of me.
She swiped a can of Roach Spray and a lighter,
knocked on their parents' doors,
and when they opened them, she sprayed their faces with fire.
Because then Roach Spray is flammable.
She loved me.
You know, Mom, we're so good at puzzles, though, Ro Ro.
Oh, God, I know.
Every night when she was done hooking,
she'd rub some carpet glue up her nose
and just put these puzzles together.
There's 500 pieces and all kinds of puzzles, too.
Dogs and horses, planets.
Jesus.
Jesus? Yeah, Jesus, too.
God, she was talented.
It was real hard when they died.
My mom sprayed her mom's face with fire.
I's never made fun of you.
No, she thought your mom was a giant spider.
She's figured Roach Spray works on spiders, too.
Oh, the Sif was in a brain, then.
Suddenly, everything was giant spiders.
Then she died of AIDS.
Yeah.
And your father's?
Oh.
Why?
Yeah, probably why.
