Yeah, but she's got great hair!

Why is that, do you suppose? There's always a great bargain at the Shoot-n-Save.

Yes, indeed.

I, personally, think the New York Times is man enough to take it. Fist away, Dana Loesch.

I think history will eventually teach us that some men will text, tweet or otherwise publicize their genitalia, regardless of their political affiliation. I think it has more to do with fragile egos and mommy-withdrawing-the-tit-too-early-in-their-development issues, rather than any thoughtful philosophy. Let's face…

Ask Tuvok: he pon-farred in the holodeck on Voyager.

You make a good point, of course, but I think you missed the part where the Grand Maester said, "You didn't think you were going to be rewarded, did you?" or something to that effect. And the look on Sam's face at that moment did not lend itself to joy in the task at hand.

I have to wonder if the Grand Maester's "punishment" of Sam Tarly - the rewriting of those dozens of scrolls - is really punishment after all? By performing this task, think of all the knowledge Sam will gain? I think the Grand Master is knowingly and willingly doing him a great favor. Even if he does spend the…

I used to go to get picked up. Back in the day, all of the ladies wanted to get boned by a guitar-player. Sex, drugs and rock'n'roll.

If memory serves, yes, it was.

Those would be ones held together with Velcro, as opposed to fine silk. It's the preferred bodice for poor people, who can't afford to purchase a new one every time some horny highlander comes along a tears it right off the heaving bosom of some poor, defenseless, virginal-yet-oddly-multiorgasmic, Scottish lass. …

That's really disgusting!

Haggis and Manishewitz. Yum.

Depends on who's ripping the bodice. And what's underneath it.

The name "Gage Golightly" always bugged me. It sounds like an enema with a pressure switch. I don't know anyone who is touched by fond remembrance when they hear the name "Golightly." Most respond by clutching their abdomen and slamming their sphincter shut. To each his own, I suppose.

I'd watch that show. I miss the good old days of white-trash, hair-pulling, bitch-slapping, ball-whacking, nipple-twisting donnybrooks that graced our airwaves via Morton, Geraldo, Sally Jessy, Oprah (when she was on the rag) and even Phil. Must see TV, fer shur.

Isn't the above description exactly what occurred in the last season? The "fetus" was a full-grown adult by the last episode and Clair was giving her the 4-1-1 on her (dead-for-centuries) real Pops. Or did I imagine all that?

Finer when he's unclothed. And very, um… tall.

I think they're press-ons, like Lee Press-On Nails. Tomorrow she may have brows like Joan Crawford; the day after, she'll be back to the Brooke Shields look. Women are fickle. It's harmless, if a little creepy.

Why do people wanna look stupid? If my hairdresser did that to me, I'd consign myself to a self-imposed swirly pronto. Then I'd kick her ass.