Never mind, I’ll tell you why: He’s too busy feeling mine. This weekend, in a show of solidarity, he allowed me to shatter his leg with the bumper of a government SUV he stole for me. (The bumper, I mean. Stealing cars is immoral and wrong, he says.) He might regret it, but I don’t. His pain and anger and futile, helpless shame has only improved his writing, as you can see for yourself here.
You should also purchase his book, Fly Fishing with Darth Vader: And Other Adventures with Evangelical Wrestlers, Political Hitmen, and Jewish Cowboys. It’s available in a number of formats, all of them good. In fact, for no extra charge*, he will come directly to your home and recite it to you from memory. He does all the voices and everything. Close your eyes and he becomes Marion Barry! Open them again and you can’t help but fall in love.
*However, you may need to slip him a few bucks to get him to leave.