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So an undercover cop turns Bob's Detroit client's face into a tomato can? Don't think he understands what "fellating" is. Fisting, maybe. Fellating, not so much.

Peggy would have done much better with this tag:

Came here for Helen Mirren. Stayed for the '69.

YO, BITCH!

Did somebody call me? Oh.

70% of skin cancer happens on the left side of Americans, most likely because of driving. He got his, however, sitting behind his driver in his chauffeur-driven Bentley. Whatta scumbag.

Gustin Gieber?

I have seventy virgins, not on deck, but in the batters box, with me as we speak.

Wow. A season that could make you actually miss Joe Piscopo.

Scrotum tats. Much, much worse.

Jesus. People still watch SNL?

He has to keep up that rat-a-tat delivery, that exaggerated modulation, that morning drive time intonation, that breathless squeeze every word into the time allotted and to create some sort of life for this singularly unfunny, dead on arrival show.

It bleak. Him die.

Your form of be is weak.

"CITY PLANNER!"

Yes, especially the part of how I had no idea that Jere Burns is a food futurologist.

Did someone call me?

THE AV CLUB

THE A.V. CLUB