If you think that's stupid, wait til you find out which direction the disc spins.

Oh, maybe when you're older, Lil' El Santo. Between the Dippin' Dots Scandal and that whole Mount Trumpshmore fiasco, it's too much to tell, and your Grandpa's getting tuckered out. Now, off to bed with you, ya scamp!

Used to be all about what's-his-name and that large book of backsides he was holding. Can't hardly recall anymore…

Gather around kids, let Grandpa tell you the story of history's greatest choice. It was a cold January morning, President Trump had just been inaugurated, and the world stopped to decide whether a Half Onion in a Bag or a Browser Extension would bring him down.

All the early comments here are pretty negative. Joke's gonna be on you sourpusses when President Half Onion rides into town on a wave of completely unironic Twitter support.

The two things I remember from that reboot:
1. "It's my duty to please that booty."
2. Jeffrey Wright takes a poop

The flag tweet is the best tweet.

"Ugh. SNL gets worse every season. It is not as humourous as when I was a younger person. Aykroyd's Trump was so cutting and edgy. This is Doumanian-level embarrassment."

When my friend was a boy, he saw Farley Mowat in Waskesiu, walking a raccoon as though it were a dog.

Buzz, buzz, emmereffers.

Saskatchewan's much, much better than you've been led to believe.

Bring the Edison Twins out of retirement, those two have been underground for decades.

Maybe wait to see what the Obamacare situation ends up being before you pulverize your nards.

Manitoba and Alberta have plenty of room for that sort of thing, thank you very much.

I'm with The Hobo. We're thinking of you today, old U.S. of A. Pull America's Hat down a little tighter over your furrowed brow. The cold can't last forever.

Wham.

Correct. Come on over.

One, two, BWAAAAAAAMP is coming for you.
Three, four, better BWAAAAAAAMP the door.
Five, six, BWAAAAAAAMP a crucifix
Seven, eight, better BWAAAAAAAMP up late.
Nine, ten, never BWAAAAAAAMP again.

Wearing sweatpants with cuffs as legitimate going-out-in-public pants?

I believe I can enter my comment in the wrong place and then have to edit something else overtop of it to preserve all semblance of sense.
I believe I can touch the sky.