This is a brilliant autobiography! Let's draw it as a comic.

I thought that weird Sunday morning show did it first. Remember that? All those puppets hanging out in a bar?

I went. It was fun, but here's a tip! Don't go see "Bruno."

I might be there. But none of you know me. I could be anyone. You…or YOU…or—well, obviously not Alex Winter, but anyone else.

Your dad must have been the coolest supervillain on the block to give you one at ten.

Nothing says rock 'n' roll like a 49-year-old white man.

Yes, thank you, AV Club. I was googling him just this week because I wondered what he was up to. He's one of the best there ever was.

The Joker's true origins will always be shrouded in mystery.

"I don't care where the things I love come from. I just care that they are." —Patton Oswalt, misquoted by me.

I've heard worse by people less-deserving of that sweet awful-club-music-industry cash.

It was nice casting, and that scene where Brock is praying, only to find out he's praying for something awful, perfectly captures the divide that makes Venom Spidey's opposite number.

We'll thank you to keep Mr. CK's bedroom manner out of this genteel discussion.

I can't accept Two Boots as pizza. I'm fine with variety, but…ugh. I've given it every chance and it doesn't satisfy. It's just crackers and tomato chunks.

Seventhed. I limped through Baby Mama this week, and she was much, much more engaging.

A respectful comment that accounts for a beautiful actress as a total person? That's a first.

I'll take Jeff Winger over rock'n'roll Winger.

Rick Aviles wasn't dead in that movie. The ghosts were just actors and special effects!

All I could come up with was WAITING…, and nobody loves anyone in that.

Profit share?

I kinda thought she was at her strongest in Season 1 before she got quite so Token Christianed.