I only want to know if there will be a crossover appearance from Cookie Monster. Me want Cooo-keee! (he could show up with a posse, like Snoop Dogg, only the weed would not be necessary)

That picture makes David Duchovny look like a hunchback. And Gillian Anderson's got too much class to go out with a hunchback. (she turned ME down, anyway)

Tying Christ and Horror together makes you rhythm guitarist in The Damned. My congratulations.

Maybe he's a deviated prevert with an Oedipal Complex? (I don't know what you'd call a man's Oedipal Complex for his dad. The Arkansas Everclear Complex?)

I want Dewey to be a U.S. Senator in it. Independent, of course.

Literally EVERYBODY knows a John Voight. JON Voight is notoriously reclusive since his daughter put the hit out on him, though.

Take Me to the River. Talking Heads. Blew my brains out. Hasn't ever stopped.

7 of 9 turned me from an occasional Voyager watcher to one who avoided the show like the plague. First-rate Babe, fifth-rate actress. And arguably Woody Boyd was more important than Rebecca on Cheers IMHO. Worf on DS9, though? Priceless. The baseball game was a TV classic…"Find and Kill the Baserunner!" is still a…

I don't think "My Blue Heaven" deserves your scorn. His mentoring FBI Agent Rick Moranis and his testimony about PacMan in the witness box (among other things) are great, and it's not supposed to be a damn Italian accent, either; it's a not-so-bright but streetwise wiseguy accent. One of the great entertainers.

The BEST part of Hudsucker Proxy was Charles Durning. The rest were good. He was unforgettable.

Brownies dipped in milk IS a great idea. Only with tequila instead of milk. And the brownies for later.

Will Eisner deserved so much better…

I know that joke. With the priest and the alcoholic stripper on the roller coaster, right?

You young punks don't KNOW no good athlete actin'…just go back and take a look at Harold Lloyd's film "Speedy" from 1928. Babe Ruth gives a performance puts all them young pups to shame. Ain't none of them could wash his jockstrap when it come to actin'…

And the song was written by The Big Bopper…J.D. Richardson

Uhm…I…don't hear JL on the backing vocals of the Edie Brickell song. In point of fact, I don't hear any backing vocals at all. Am I the only one?

I'm sure that I speak for absolutely no one here when I say that your language has ALWAYS seemed high-falutin' to me. (and my 'high-falutin'', I mean EXCEPTIONAL. Good on ya, Carl! You be Da Man.

One of my great loves. And one of her best roles—IMHO, of course—was playing opposite John Cleese in Taming of the Shrew. Best Shakespeare I ever saw.

And he has plenty of dresses.

Where? Where? Wait. She's dead. You're mean.