My gosh I played Purple so so so many times.

Was it Mavis who lied about getting her period first?

Man I read that book so many times I still remember details, like how the neighbors would call Carmela “Carol” and how pissed off Grandma was not allowed to cook any more, him hiding his jizzed bedsheets, and his friend who shoplifted batteries, and the last chapter (he was riding his bike) ending with the title.

2004 was the worst year at the time. Then came 2016.

Little roller up along first...BEHIND THE BAG! IT GETS THROUGH BUCKNER!

You subtle whore.

I literally just gasped. My parents didn’t have terrible taste — my dad was Elvis; my mom, Motown — but neither played anything as good as those two.

Ha, really? I remember my parents buying Thriller on vinyl and all of us listening to it in their bedroom. (Why was the record player not in the living room then?) “PYT” is still a favorite.

Gorky? That’s a park in an ‘80s movie I haven’t seen.

You can see dick in the PG-rated Can’t Stop the Music.

Yeah, I think I’d be a permissive parent but kinky sex is too adult for kids’ eyes.

I recall jacking off down front in an enormous movie theater before The Color of Money started. Why did I do that. Thirteen-year-old me was super horny and thought invented jerking off.

I’m wondering if Airplane! was denied also. That was my first glimpse of boobs and I remember the randomness being like the funniest thing ever. ROTFLMFAO decades before internet acronyms.

That’s, uh, inappropriate.

Didn’t Stephen King have short stories published in it?

Closeted me shoplifted a Blueboy magazine. I never told anyone that before.

Yes, ladies are spared the troubles of morning wood.

Yes me too! Except I think I was in sixth grade.

Your dad sounds awesome. I don’t consider Playboy to be porn (what’s pornographic about a woman’s body?) so if I were a dad (and het) I’d maybe be like yours.

When Wild at Heart came out my mother FORBADE me from going to see it. We were both “Twin Peaks” fans and had watched Blue Velvet together (along with my dad) but for some reason WaH was verboten to sixteen-year-old-me. “Look, Mom, The [Philadelphia] Inquirer gives it three-and-a-half stars!” failed to persuade her.