Is anyone else mystified by the fact that Richardson isn’t fighting this tooth and nail? He’s such a cartoonishly evil plutocrat, so unrepentant in his slave owner mentality, that I’d have figured him to nail his own foot to the floor of the Panther office HQ and refuse to be moved. For someone like him to jump…

Nah, man. Here’s my take, and while it’s nowhere near canon, it’s too solid not to probably become canon soon:

Waitaminit—weren’t the Jedi Texts actually shown to be aboard the Millennium Falcon at the end of the film? Like, Finn is looking for space bandages to put on Rose, and the first drawer he opens has the books in them. He slams it shut, then opens the space first-aid kit drawer, pulls out a space Band-Aid, etc.

Good on that “youtubeur,” of course. But what really struck me was the question of WHY THE HELL DO SO FEW COUNTRIES BOTHER TO MARK THEIR LANES?

Ooh, that’s good Palinese right there. Almost Tina Fey-level.

“Aw-awatagpakawánpakawánen”bantaberrger”mangantayon!”

“I always say, if you think you can just drop any old ex-player in a TV studio and expect great things, you’re a shippleblubbynyudnu”

“It’s rather Americentic to assign American cultural values to others.”

G_ddamn it, you really knocked it out of the park with this article, Torch! Kapi’s 1955 product line just so much weirdness to appreciate, on so many levels. I mean, the Chiqui had to be what Dali saw every time he looked at a car, right?

I’m guessing that ramming a capital ship at lightspeed through a Mega-class Star Destroyer (or anything at all, really) would cause waaay too much damage to everything within a huge area centered on the point of impact. Any other capital ships in fleet formation with the Raddus could well have been crippled or…

Dude coccyxed it up, all right—pretty much from the moment he started lumbaring down the ice.

Unexpectedly delightful, and it featured an even more unexpected appearance by Kool Moe Dee!! Many, many thanks for this whimsy/nostalgia pick-me-up.

“...and a player to be named later”: A little-valued player that an owner adds as a lagniappe to an already-finalized trade. The extra player is legally stripped of his name in the process, and must earn a replacement name by performing menial, often demeaning tasks (ie, “shagging fly balls,” etc.) for his new team.

Ye gods, Adams’ reverse-spin move was fantastic.

Yup, they’re a thing. And TownaceNoah, below, is right to give a shoutout to candied ginger, too. The pills work better for general “feeling nauseated all the time” issues, while the candied ginger is our go-to for more intense, “just took my morning pills, and I’ve got anout 5 minutes before I’ll feel like…

Aww, shuckles. Thanks!

NO. Absolutely not. Proyas doesn’t get to say a Goddamn thing about “erasing the tragedy of Brandon Lee’s performance.”

Trivia time! The following applies to Disneyland only; I have no idea about what goes on in Florida (in any context, really):

Wrong. Fred Rodgers. The only thing you can find about him which was bad was his taste in sweaters.

And, finally, necrophilia is right out.