April, don't play the fool!  January ate February!

Now there's a comedian with spunk.

You're not invited to the pants party.

On the cover as well as in the photo I notice he wears the ever-present same hockey jersey that announces "Jesus Christ, I'm fat."

Distaff to the egress.

Ah - that may be.  I couldn't place it to a name.  Whether Grandma or Linda Hunt, I feel awkward when she says "sexual situations".

Blast off to retrieve him using her newly installed Rocket Vagina.

Oh strange tinge-of-Jessica-Walter grandma voice who tells me that viewer discretion is advised, I await hearing your creaky "Ar-r-r-cher"s for Season 4…

@avclub-94d8526a5fae933806f65b8a0f49301a:disqus - As long as he isn't fucking a dog with it, up and at 'em, Führer.

Quick, Todd!  Saving throw against internet comment damage!

Katanas don't run out of bullets.

Well at least God doesn't answer a question with a question….

He'd never get out of first gear…

Just great - this was the first new HBO series to air since I started subscribing.  Was enjoying being in on the ground floor of their latest multi-season saga.

Back away - those are the five pentagrams of the succubus Cslashoslashm!

I still miss Siskel - always loved him in this episode playing off Ritter.

And instead of the morning roll call, a black man makes Dustin Hoffman urinate.

Without Kate Beaton, you are rudderless!

The gentlemen across the hall in my dorm (Captain Shoegaze and The Mystical Arab as I dubbed them) would treat the entire floor to a midday blasting of The Smiths' "How Soon is Now?" on repeat.

Put an old 45 rpm record on every chair and call it "Sit on a Single".