And when IFC does show movies, they more of the Stallone/Horror/Lethal Weapon variety. There's still Sundance.

We'll see you at the movies, Mr. Ebert. RIP

Buzz has spent many a nights at The League of Extra Horny Gentlemen.

I've elected to let my debit card go Galt on this craptacular cinematic fare.

Something tells me that Will Smith does a mean Bob Dole impression.

(Comment expressing a meh-style indignation over the tour not coming to the Bay Area.)

Lars seemed to enjoy being on the show.

And your American Spirit cigarettes.

And the maintenance guy must, by Dunham's edict, pepper his speech with "mira-mira" and "mein".

And once again, Dave Gahan will do what plenty of other leading dudes from musical groups tend to do while at Shoreline, and that is say "Hello, San Francisco!"

"Mark, man, you play a mean guitar! It's really a shame that you must die!"—Sauce tagline.

How will Moz tolerate all that carne asada, al pastor, tortas milanesas and hogadas while playing at Vive Latino this year?

For all we know, Martin Mull is way, way, WAAAAAY into Tame Impala.

It's Zahn like Donkey Kong.

So, who will be the celebrity that they make look so fine?

"Take THAT, Maynard G. Krebs!"

Their best riot was when Mexico and Portugal were on the pitch (The Cartridge Family, I believe), slowly vying for fútbol supremacy.

"Hans-Sellout is about to have his Hanel ass handed to him on a platter… with French-fried potatoes."

"Yo, she-bitch, let's go."

In that photo,  Justin Vernon looks like he found the next victim to lure into his Econoline mobile torture room.