He's standing in front of an antique vanity mirror, with a leather jacket in one hand, and an ascot in the other. Slowly, he raises the ascot to his chin, staring angrily at his reflection. "No..." he mutters. "Still not quite right...."

I thought I had an opinion once, but it was just gas.

I'm a classist, but I'm IRONIC about it!

Who wants to be the first to contact this guy and go on a date? I think we could get a whole series of articles "out" of this "gem."

Well okay, not QUITE. But I love that sketch.

Mr. McConaughey deserves an award for being so brave.

I know, right!? Utena is the sun in my animated sky.

Everyone stand back. A MAN HAS SPOKEN.

My biggest problem is that your typical "storage solutions" don't work for sheet metal welding projects, multi-week furniture restoration jobs, worm bins, gears and winches, rare bulbs, drying herbs, gallons of paint, glass solar dryers, old motherboards, pet crickets, antique sound equipment, broken guitars (I WILL…

Much like Dave Lister, I do not just have mold in a cup. I am GROWING that mold. I'm gonna get it THIS BIG.

This is unrelated, but I ate at Moosewood once when I had just moved nearby, and they had decorated the place with black and white photos of starving African children, shot by a local artist. It turns out it's very difficult to eat a vegan/organic lasagna while a starving child is staring at you with empty, baleful…

Why thank you. I see we are both fans of the descriptive moniker. ^_^

Even though I am more of a Star Trek girl.

I got invited to a birthday party when I was, like, 10, because I was visiting my godparents, and their son was invited, and why not. And I was subsequently the only girl at a Star Wars themed birthday, in which cake was eaten off Return of the Jedi plates, and we watched (duh) Star Wars. BEST BIRTHDAY EVER.

Although anyone who's read Victorian porn knows that bisexual sex was de rigueur for saucy times, so we're not doing THAT well.

My milke-shakes bringeth all the younge men to the yard.

I hear you can get the same side effects from touching Hugh Laurie.

Touche...

Hubby is a taxi driver, and the fleet is mostly Pontiac Aztecs. He love's 'em. (Apparently the dash lights up red, which is "cool." He's a simple man.) They call it The Aztaxi.

BUT DOES HE HAVE AN EMBARRASSING BLUES ALBUM!? I didn't think so. *drops mic*