In honor of Byron Scott’s tenure in Los Angeles, I’m going to download Tank Commander, not have any interest in the game for two years, and then delete it.

Not only the best, but the best without any nearby competition. The magic wasn’t that Prince was bilingual—English and guitar—but that he made everybody else understand what he was saying note for note. (What he was saying: “I am Prince, and now blood is rushing to your sex organs, and that’s totally okay, because I…

It’s not that I want to fuck Slimer from Ghostbusters, it’s that I want to dominate him. Utterly. Completely.

Do you have like ten seconds? Are you between the ages of 18 and 44? Then join the goddamn bone marrow registry. Leukemia is a particularly stupid fuck; joining the registry may one day afford you the opportunity to step directly on its dumb fucking neck.

I have exactly two thoughts on the subject:

The first I read about this whole kerfuffle is when that was retweeted into my timeline. Too many people are too comfortable representing this as some sort of cool and good insult that somehow rises above the fray.

Even as a novice to the root beer game (had my first one last year; who knew?), this list is sparse. No Dad’s? Abita? Boylan? Sioux City? Faygo?

...for now. Third inbound in March. We are idiots.

I’m not a Gym Attending Guy so I need outside verification on this: if my dad decline benched 500 pounds at 50, that’s good, right?

Short answer: they’re mad that their shitty worldview is being correctly called out as racist, and instead of reflecting on their racism, they decide to puff up like a heretofore-undiscovered tropical fish. “HOW COME RAPPERS CAN USE THE N-WORD,” the fish bloops out, “WHY ISN’T THERE A WHITE HISTORY MONTH.”

Johnson’s flaming Dumpster® of a salary comes off the books next year. Super overpay Conley and Batum. Populate the bench with the best available Euroleague players plus two overpaid veterans. Lopez, Young, Conley, Batum, two victory laps, a gaggle of guys name Yaroslav or Jean or Former Dayton Flyers Small Forward:…

My daughter calls this show “Mickey Mouse Clubmouse,” which is cute and curious enough to excuse the actual show. HOWEVER: there was an actual moment that was actually kinda funny on this dreadful show!

Counterpoint: fuck IMAX and fuck 3D in particular.

The fact that I found Jodie Sweetin remarkably attractive despite her incredibly cringe-worthy dancing disturbed me—“I watched her grow up!” I lamented aloud. But then I found out she’s actually older than me, so now I don’t know what to think and there’s no booze, okay there’s booze but no mixers—no good mixers I…

“The fuck you know about it?”

Cormac Gollogly is an almost recklessly Irish name. I love it. Also those two are so freakin’ dapper. I love it as well.

Uh I know you did not just insinuate that Mondo isn’t a superstar. That is unforgivable. Mondo is a perfect angel.

An insult like “pretentious twentysomething” falls a little flat when you spend this many words to defend a genre that, as you yourself note, was often driven by “42nd Street sleazebags and Omaha carpet salesmen trying to make the next Jaws.” You think that those hucksters got into a relatively cheap and easy film…

Again, you say something as utterly useless as “terms and conditions,” without identifying which ones, and then insinuate that those nebulous terms and conditions can somehow prevent me from disclosing whatever unsolicited dumb shit somebody decides to send my way—but yes, I am somehow the clueless one here. Are you…

Whose terms and conditions? Their ISP? Their email provider? My ISP? My email provider? The Masons? The Other And Cooler Masons? You are lost on this one. Please refrain from contributing further until you pay somebody for the scraps of a clue.