Let's have a moment of silence to mark the death of George Carlin. Though perhaps a moment of cursing would be more appropriate. As a child, I used to take George Carlin's albums out from the Fletcher Free Library (in my hometown, Burlington, VT) and giggle over them with my brother.

The two most memorable bits for me came from A Place For My Stuff, which Carlin released in 1981. The first was one of his "announcements" which purported to be a message from the National Apple Institute (it was delivered in a voice I always took to be that of a tough-looking, menacing apple: "F--- pears.")

The second was his piece, Ice Box Man, in which he did an impersonation of a mom trying to sell her family on eating something nasty from the back of the fridge. His deadpan summary of the item on the plate was "could be meat, could be cake... I know, it's meatcake." And then in his mother voice, he'd chime in, "Don't you want to eat this bowl of pudding skin??? I'm only going to throw it away..."

To this day, my mom, who listened to me and my brother cutting up to the album ad nauseum, refers to anything gross from the back of the fridge as "meatcake." As do I, for that matter.

Rest in peace, George Carlin. Your spirit lives on.