Eccleston is easily my favorite Doctor, so I was looking forward to an older, grouchier take on the character (though I loved Smith, whose detached, alien quality was so refreshing after Tennant's sappy mugging [sorry]).

I've known at least one educated idiot who stubbornly clung to his double spaces for precisely that reason — it was how he was taught to do it on a typewriter. (This despite the fact that it was circa 2000 and he was college-aged.)

Like you, I don't use Twitter—but I am no longer confused about the Fat Jew. Turns out, I just had to read the article and the comments. Give it a shot!

Upvoted for Plan-O-Gram shop talk. I survived years in retail by becoming the Plan-O-Gram Queen, so as to minimize my interactions with customers.

Tig?!

MIFEPRISTONE, IF YOU DON'T GET INTO THIS DODGE COMET—

NULLIPAROUS, YOU ARE MY ELDEST SON

NORETHINDRONE. PUT THAT WIFFLE BALL BAT DOWN AND COME IN THE HOUSE.

It is "known"