Humor has to be simultaneously accessible to the dumbest sector of the audience, and at the same time enjoyed by the sharpest and most ahead-of-the-curve tools in the shed. Fuxley covers are satirical but not nonsensical. So what’s the idea here? The horse has been ramming the flannel-shirt guy and is now suspicious that he’s being cheated on with the guy and the dishy blonde about to have a little hey-hey in the hayloft? If that’s not it, I’m honestly stumped as to what the title could mean.

Why did Isaiah Lee, 23, attack Dave Chappelle the other night? Rolling Stone is quoting his 31 year-old brother, Aaron Lee, who says, almost anecdotally, that Isaiah “has been in and out of Los Angeles homeless shelters for the past decade and struggles with mental illness.”

Aaron added that Isaiah “doesn’t have any type of animosity toward [Chappelle] that I know about…it could have definitely been a factor, but I really don’t know.”

I’ve just been through a grueling moving period, and it hasn’t ended yet.

Attending to endless details and packing endless boxes in WeHo and taking them to the post office, sending the VW Passat back east on a big hauling truck, and then flying with Anya and a wailing Katya on an Alaskan Airlines red-eye last Tuesday night, and without a wink of sleep.

My system was knocked flat by this. Now I’m consumed by unpacking. Fatigue, lack of mental focus, sudden nap attacks.

Try doing all this crap and see how productive you are with a daily column, ya pricks ya.

That aside, I’ve been genuinely terrified of sitting through Everything Everywhere All At Once, and I’m certainly not paying good money to see it. (No streaming options as we speak.) Plus I would rather shove razor-sharp Exacto knives into my eyes rather than see the new bullshit Dr. Strange flick.

I apologize for not seeing Vortex, the latest Gaspar Noe which screened in Cannes last July but has only just shown up theatrically. (There’s no trusting the 90% Rotten Tomatoes score, of course.) I’ll catch it this weekend in Manhattan.

The next significant screening will be Top Gun: Maverick, on the morning of Tuesday, 5.10. I leave for Cannes on Sunday, 5.15.

99.4% of the time, a woman is a human born with XX chromosomes, a uterus, female sexual organs (i.e., no schlongola), smaller feet and a mellower, more humanistic, less territorial attitude about life.

I’m sorry if that upsets a certain percentage of well-meaning persons out there.