Hang on. Mr. Wendell isn't an ode to NASCAR driver Wendell Scott? No wonder my junior high years were awkward.

:Curb Your Enthusiasm theme plays:

Hey, It's-a me! Your local-a tax-a collector. Mama mia, you-a owe-a so much inna the taxes! It's-a gonna take me 12 parsecs just-a to add up alla this scungilli.

It's MegaMaid, sir.

Is there a flying car chase movie? Because … would watch. Now I just want to see a gritty cop Jetsons movie.

If you take the cyan screen off, you can see how the underlying image really looks: http://bit.ly/2lyYEv6

Hamill, an Oscar winner? That's not true. That's IMPOSSIBLE.

Technically, in this case, toast.

"Bob Dudley: Chimp Bartender" is the best classic noir TV show that never existed.

I never said I needed a corner office.

He was looking for a job and then he found a job.

Wait, so the cops DON'T want to use that logo to draw criminals' fire to the hood of their police cruisers? Well they are missing Frank Castle's point ENTIRELY.

I hate slow, straightforward, sad-bastard music, and even I like Nightswimming.

The cover to ZZ Top's Deguello would've made awesome Atari box art.

D … do you think there's a Council of Editors, who have the power to take lesser editors' badges and guns?

It was probably that one episode were all the Ferengi were sitting around a table going "This challah? To DIE for" over and over again. And you know, they had a point. That was some good-ass challah.

As a guy who's spent many nights drinking alone in upstate bars: Can confirm.

I still don't know why wedge salads with bleu cheese had to catch collateral damage on this. The fuck did a nice, crisp wedge ever do to anyone?

Great. Now every third Times article is "I was just wondering if … you know."

Especially if you can finagle a trisodium glutamate, ifyouknowwhatimean.