See, he knows one!

Conde Nast is responsible for some of the classiest stuff you can read while taking a shit.

They'll all be doing voice work as a group of Great Pyrenees to ensure an all-white cast on screen, in keeping with Wes' other movies.

And as a total scumbag, no less. He half-buries Leo in a shallow grave and just peaces out. I can't wait to see it.

He's made it work for himself, that's for sure. He's always hanging out with a bunch of models looking like he should be selling grilled cheese at a music festival.

Most of it just ends up in his pubebeard.

I don't know, but just the thought of them makes me laugh.

He uses lambskin condoms.

Ed Gein is a design and fashion icon. The man brought back wearing white skinsuits after Labor Day!

Always on the lookout for a good pegging video. That's like the Holy Grail of amateur porn.

No dessert until after you've been pegged, young man.

I've always wondered how bad Pink's belt buckle pipe smelled when he was just wearing it. I like the idea of the pipe, but I can't help but think of the pervasive smell of resin.

I believe what is meant by that is 325 horsepower. I don't know for sure, though, I'm only quoting a movie.

He'd start down low with a 350 cube, three and a quarter horsepower, 4-speed, 4:10 gears, ten coats of competition orange, hand-rubbed lacquer with a huplace manifold. Full fucking race cams. Whoo!

WELL SAID, TRACY!

Apropos of nothing related to Tracy Morgan, I also find Dave Chappelle's hecklers to be obnoxious.

Free sugar packets from the breakroom.

You take that stuff away and all you're left with is Rob Lowe's sex tape and an entire city dancing along to a guy lip-synching "Twist & Shout."

And how cool would it be if Spielberg directed that episode?!

"I crave less power."