Writing, reading, writing, listening to music, writing, being a curmudgeon, writing when I should be eating or sleeping, masturbating in public. Wait, wait, no, can I edit out that last part? Aw hell!
A singing hobo and a precocious monkey that fights crime, not necessarily in that order.
The Mountain Goats, Wilco, Mike Doughty, Neutral Milk Hotel, Tom Waits, Magnetic Fields, and anything that involves singing to, about or with Jesus.
The Simpsons. That's it. Unless, of course, the promised "Chief Wiggum, P.I." spin-off ever gets picked up.
I like everything written by Vonnegut but especially "Breakfast Of Champions." Hornby's "High Fidelity." Egger's "Heartbreaking Work." Lethem's "Fortress of Solitude." Pretty much everything that David Sedaris ever put on the page, but particularly the story "Six to Eight Black Men," which, if it doesn't make you crap your pants with laughter, is definitive proof that you have no soul. Fusselman's "The Pharmacist's Mate." Richard Perez's "The Loser's Club." The entire McSweeney's canon, but especially number 11.