True Story:
I attended a concert in the late 90's, featuring the following triple-bill:

Wow.

Yeah, well…. That's just, ya know, like…your opinion, man.

So is Kirsten Dunst dead or not?!

These guys are awesome. They make Capt. Beefheart sound like Top 40 AOR.

Side note:

Shit! That's "Bet", not "Bete".

FINALLY….
Something that's worse than this:

ALERT:
BRIAN WILSON AT 4:47.

THE BEST PART:
Michael and Janet's "duet."

This one goes to eleEEEeeeEEeVvEEeenNNn.

Makes about as much sense as anything I ever read in the Bible.

Now I see how it is.

The Weirdest Part:
Imagining what Jason Alexander would look like thin.

How about your girlfriend's repeated orgasmic squirts? I've a feeling she's got a serious gusher backup that needs triggering from a real fucking man.

I died for your sins, but those pumps are unforgivable!

Goddamn….
I didn't realize there was so much hate left between the genders. Leave it to a fucking car company to dredge all this bullshit up at just the right time.

Tagline shoulda been…
Thees town jus' like a great big Smurfette jus' waiting to get smurfed, mang.

You Smurfing Die!

Pocket Rockers all the way, baby!!!