David Cross Owes Me Kleenex

Forty-six. That’s the number of times I laughed out loud reading David Cross’ book “I Drink For A Reason.” I’ve been a fan of his for years and couldn't wait for his authorial debut. When I wasn’t wiping my nose or eyes with my sleeve from laughing too hard, I was marveling at his precocity. The guy is a genius. Similar to Jon Stewart, he has enough foresight to build hilarious jokes that are crammed with real information. This 236-page compendium of random lists, salty musings, and loving hate letters rivals his bits about Squagels and electric scissors.

To start off, he dedicated the book to himself. (“For me. I couldn’t have done it without you.”) Then he proceeds to ladle acerbic gravy all over Bill O’ Reilly, James Frey, and Larry the Cable the Guy. But it's his colossal ire toward Jim Belushi that's more memorable than a Serta visco elastic pillow. One encounter with “The Belush” (a.k.a. “Beluminator,” Bubbaloosh,” and “Belulu”) at the Stardust Casino in Las Vegas was enough to plague the tepidly talented actor with penchants for passed-out babysitters, Whasssuppp Budweiser ads, and cross-dressing strippers. And as someone who writes music reviews, I gleefully recoiled while reading the chapter “Top Ten CDs to Listen to while Listening to Other CDs,” in which David galvanizes Pitchfork reviewers for being “very, very precious and often overly verbose.” After excerpts from actual album reviews he inserts his own creations, like “Only the Proletariat Flosses” by Screaming at the Mirror and “Elegant Nuisance” by ButterFat 100.

If you like to laugh, appreciate The Onion, were born between 1965 and 1978, shun FOX News, and admire Tobias Fünke, please read this book.