I wonder if my priorities are misplaced…
…when the thing that bugs me the most about that commercial is the choppy editing at 0:14, just before the "wolf howl".

I also love: "Hmmm, good memoirs. Good — not great."

I love that Bible joke, too. I also love how George is improbably fooled by Homer's impression of G. W. and Jeb. ("Come outside, Dad!")

Fairly Obscure References
My wife doesn't watch too many old movies, so it's always fun when she asks "Is that a reference to something?" and I can tell her.

I love that reference — very clever. (Moreso than Bart randomly speaking Nadsat or dressing as Alex from time to time.)

Also: "Nice try Floyd! But you were designed for scrubbing, and *scrubbing* is what you shall do."

You know, my wife will be happy. She's hated this whole "death ray" thing from Day One.

Hey! I have it on good authority that Sarah doesn't take it up the nose.

There is still a Wimpy's Diner in East Scarborough. I've seen a few others around Toronto, too. Never eaten at one.

Grit my teeth, that is. I wouldn't grit your teeth without your express permission.

The combat is pretty broken. Unless you're playing on easy, the enemies are very hard to kill. It's fine for the irradiated mutants, I guess, as they are made out to be very dangerous to the survivors. Pretty inexcusable for the human enemies. Headshots often just anger them and/or knock off their headgear. (It's…

One bit from that Odenkirk/Dick Would You Rather absolutely slays me:

And another one: "It's unfortunate to have to point out that it is also a racist lynching by white critics of a black critic."

Near the end of White's laborous self-defense, he posts a capsule review of Greenberg, which includes this gem:

"Who's voice is that? Is that Fred? Aww, but you said it was over! No, don't put him on — hello, Fred!"

Nets are no longer for fish!

PACKERS WON THE SUPER BOWL!!

I think he means, stick your cookie (vagina) up your ass. Which suggests he doesn't understand anatomy too well.

I spent all my Biography money — it went straight up my nose.

Oh, and academic conferences are definitely Fuck City, especially for graduate students.