You can’t be an East Indian giver.’

Experts estimate that only 1 percent of lazy people can afford HBO. It’s also been determined that paying for any form of television is a ridiculous notion. Even the least lucid of men can determine that television sucks turds – with the exception of the economically elusive and aforementioned HBO.

Let’s step back and assess: too smart for TV, too poor for movie channels. Whoa art thee. So what to do? Buy season three of "Alias" for $70?

Like hell.

Since 2000, Larry "I created Seinfeld" David has been putting the most original and daring comedy onto the small screen since … well, ever. The problem is that not enough people are noticing. While smarter, dirtier, and (so) ultimately funnier than his Seinfeld creation, David’s "Curb Your Enthusiasm" does not receive the recognition that was once given to his first-born.

Why is this, you ask? Because the majority of us can’t afford to watch it. But DVD is our ticket.

David’s sitcom picks up the ball where "Seinfeld" limply left it, creating a world where seemingly unrelated and childish acts culminate in groundshaking fiasco and humiliating defeat. And then "Curb Your Enthusiasm" takes it to the next level. Where "Seinfeld" was a series of awkward misfortunes, "Curb Your Enthusiasm" is a tour de force of self-obsessed, violent and degrading acts. Coincidence is one thing, but this is straight out war.

And another added bonus is that "Curb your Enthusiasm" is housed in the no holds barred world of HBO, where "Seinfeld" was trapped in the puritanical chapel of NBC. What does this mean for viewers?

"Fuck, shit, bitch, boy cock, girl cock, E-I-E-I-O."

When each new season of "Curb Your Enthusiasm" drops into retailers, it feels like Christmas morning and it’s snowing candy-coated diamonds delicately mined from the uteruses of cherub virgins from heaven. All is well.

The third season dropped recently and we catch David at his very worst behavior. While the first two seasons were a mostly nonlinear patchwork of mishaps and foibles, season three focuses primarily on David trying to start an upscale restaurant with other investor friends. The common plotline gives the series a tightening that it lacked before. It’s as if David has finally shaken off the notion of "a show about nothing" and decided to tell a story.

This linear approach pays dividends in the latter half of the season. Episodes seven through 10 provide poopy pantaloons for many red-faced viewers. From congratulating a colleague on his young son’s penis size, to grappling violently with a live nativity scene Joseph over the Virgin Mary’s sexy frame to digging up his own mother’s corpse, a Larry David golden sitcom has resuscitated the rigor mortis-ized rotting shell of television entertainment once again. It’s time that David be recognized for doing so.