Twofer, but only with the coupon that came in the Sunday paper.

The Whitest Kids You Know is proof that that is not true.

Well then, it should be a really great blow job.

Okay, I'm pushing away the keyboard now. It occurs to me that I could potentially waste this entire day quoting the most imminently quotable sketch show in history…

Mustardayonnaise is on sale at Fairsley's this week, and you'll never find a rat.

NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

Four episodes, huh? Way to go EINSTEIN!

Bad acid is the size of a medicine ball, but it's covered in teats. It came from another planet and landed on Bootsy Collins' house.

Hello friends and lovers… THU TRAN!!! God I miss that little scamp!

Right? Clearly this staffer has never seen the animated short where the kid gets lost before getting advice from a psychedelic yo-yo champ, or the elaborate pinball machine designed to teach us how to count to TWELVE!

It's okay, The Last Man on Earth isn't filmed in Tucson.

About midway down, there are some great comments defending Bully as a Larry Clark standout. Seconded, of course, but I would also like to nominate Wassup Rockers for honorable mention. The pseudo Clint Eastwood scene near the end sends the movie into silly territory, but it's an otherwise great peek inside the lives…

I thought Leo Fitzpatrick was brilliant as the one guy who wasn't numb to the gravity of the situation, but whose gangsta ethos prevents him from walking away from the situation.

Gee, and all this time I thought the movie was warning about the kind of hands-off parenting approach that leads to unchecked teen drug abuse, wild unprotected sex, and an eventual level of detachment from reality that had the kids thinking they lived in a world without consequences.

Ennui Aioli?

Wayne's gone a bit off the rails past few years (too many acid trips with Miley Cyrus I suspect), but there is no arguing that they are one of the best live acts EVER. Period! When they launch into a live version of "Race for the Prize", that shit is a downright religious experience.

Saw Dylan at the State Fair Events center in Pueblo somewhere around 1998. He wasn't exactly "off", but he sure wasn't about to play any classic Dylan tunes either. It was a ninety minute set of his newish stuff, followed by a (clearly reluctant) encore of "Like a Rolling Stone" where he didn't even try to play…

I saw that tour. Man were those skinheads confused, but later Ian Donaldson yelled at the crowd for throwing stuff at the Indigo Girls.

Back when I was a huge guitar geek in the late 80's, went to two separate Bay Area shows just to see Stanley Jordan open. One was for Larry Carlton (who we stuck around and enjoyed), and the other one was for some cheese ball that we didn't stick around for (after one song, it was clear that he was the jazz equivalent…

…not to mention - BEWARE!! I LIVE!! RRRAAAARRRRRR