I felt that way the first time I saw it. I now can't stop rewatching it whenever it's on HBO and it gets better every time. Some weird kind of comedic alchemy. Anchorman was the same way for me. And Rudd has a perfect Platonic moment of comedy when he does the amazed and slightly aroused double-take at Michael…

Smooth strokes! Paint it, don't tickle it! And don't smoke!

Love-A-Da-Mango Mango

Bubble-Gumby Dammit!

Champag-Nyeah Spanish Fly

That Monkey-Guy Apple Caramel Something Something.

Chocolate Donuts. Duh.

If you rip on me thirteen or fourteen more times, I'm outta here.

Dave Foley and his omnipresent inter-show coffee cup.

Wilt thou grant me thine dainty hoof in marriage?

That's not the cigar baby, that's love.

Oh hai sharky.

His drunk father is the drunk father we all wish we had.

It was decent. What really socked it across was Alda as the heavy, doing that deliciously unctuous cunt-face thing he does… a little too well maybe.

Who knew he was the glue? I'd always bet on Gummo.

If you have a problem with Trading Place I believe Coleman has some words for you: "What a scumbag."

If I even think of the musical score the entire credits sequence/Philly montage plays out before my eyes.

I think I will have that mineral water with a lime twist please.

I pull an Eddie Murphy on the Air Nepal flight whenever I hear any kind of vaguely Indian throat singing sounding music. I feel vaguely misanthropic but fuck that music sucks. So does Hawaiian music. Completely undoes any goodwill their amazing comfort food fusion cuisine engenders.

I was just lobbying for a full-on video up there. Jack White as Larry, I mean c'mon. C'MON. And he can play that cover of Eve of Destruction too.