Larry David is back. He left. He did nothing. He returned. And our lives are a little more complete, the world a little more just.
The truth is, as sensitive as we may claim or even strive to be, there's a little Larry in all of us. He's the voice nagging at the back of your mind, noticing the foibles and fallacies of modern society, just aching to speak out. Whether it's the colleague who can't help but leave a small flotilla of dirty cutlery in the communal kitchen sink, or that one person whose round comes just as the party's collective memory has grown hazy, everyday life is full of small annoyances which common etiquette dictates we have to grin and bear. God forbid, you think, things might become awkward, as yet again an idiotic norm sees the last chocolate digestive go untouched, wasted, stale.
For Larry David, 'savoir faire' really is a foreign phrase. Whenever a small everyday stupidity rears its head, he doesn't hesitate to put things right. He is the profanity-laden voice of the voiceless, the ultimate champion for social etiquette justice. Some heroes wear loafers, it seems.
This absent tact makes Larry the world's most deadly social assassin, and though his unvarnished honesty often leaves him scolded by the hot water of polite society's backwash, we're grateful for his blisters.
Never change, Larry.
8. "Big Vagina"
They say that 'size doesn't matter', but any guy will tell you that as soon as a rumour begins to spread about their purported 'shortcomings', all those maxims about the 'motion of the ocean' suddenly count for zilch.
Logically, the ratio of small male genitalia to large varieties of the female counterpart should be about even. It's a theory Larry's agent, Jeff, professes to his client after falling victim to the 'small penis' accusation through a mutual friend. "These big vagina ladies are getting away with murder," he laments.
Most ordinary people would let such postulations remain behind closed doors. Not our enterprising hero though, who confronts Jeff's slanderer, positing her possession of an unnaturally spacious, er, passage. It doesn't end there. When a prized baseball goes walkabouts from Richard Lewis' bedroom, Larry turns full pornographic-Poirot in suggesting his nurse - she of the big you-know - stuffed the keepsake up her vacuous groin pocket and marched right out of there.
Despite the disgusted reaction it draws, the gynecological sleuth is proved correct - thanks to his own stolen cellphone ringing from within the depths of the supposed-thief's nether regions. Talk about good vibrations.