I'm anxious to see how this episode will manifest in his next Capital One commercial.

But enough about Pittsburgh…

Admirably stealth secondsies.

ID4: The British Empire Strikes Back

Not to mention the smut I've been hearing on the AM radio waves. Why just the other day I heard a monkey giving oral satisfaction to a snowman!

"And then I want it to say Gee, Brad, You're Awesome across the top in bright yellow frosting. Make sure nobody gets a piece before I do."

"Strokin'," Clarence Carter

"I'm gonna like the way my cock looks in your eye-sockets motherfuckers!"

Executive management plans to change the name to "Men's Wear-Hizzy 2K," to appeal to the millennial junior sales rep.

I hope they'll still let me rent tuxedo shoes—just the shoes—now and then. They go really well with my jeggings.

She looks like a sexagenarian Cabbage Patch Kid with a fondness for PCP.

In her defense, racist jokes are just jokes—when you're a great big fucking racist.

I foresee a heartwarming moment where he and Alex count the number of years his dad has left in prison.

Pretty sure I've read it before somewhere, like on a calendar, superimposed over a waterfall or a field of swaying wheat.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm judging him too harshly. Like, maybe he's just a misunderstood, violent psychopath?

If unity is what we are afraid of, then fear is disunity.

Kanye has agreed, for $5,000,000, to let People magazine do an exclusive photoshoot of a tired but elated Kim cradling the masters.

Fist Fockers, in which one of the young Fockers takes on the Rocky archetype.

People who have a lot of money are better than people who don't.

I find that the virtues of minimalism are at odds with the virtues of the self. I have a small weiner, is what I'm trying to say.