I would, without hesitation, have sex with a Jeunet fangirl. That's all I'm gonna say on this subject.

This is all well and good…
…but when are we going to dig up old "golden era" porn movies and do reviews on them? Because James Gandolfini is NOT who you want to be masturbating to.

Hash mules everything around me.

Hash mules everything around me.

And he WILL. Holy shit, this guy talks about which metal songs are in which tunings all the livelong day. He's like fucking Bubba in Forest Gump with his list of shrimp. Seriously, you get him started, it's your responsibility to turn out the lights and lock everything up when he's finally done.

I just beat a man to death with my semi-engorged penis, and this is the thanks I get? Damn son, leave the Monopoly game at home and bring some Patron.

I'd like to get that straight too, but it's pretty damn mangled. Wrestle that sentence to the ground man, you can DO it!

Also, much to my embarrassment, I continually and repeatedly confuse Kid Creole with Kid Congo Powers.

What's up with the Indian Chief in that picture?

That doesn't really work for us, for a plethora of reasons…

"These Are My Boobs" needs to be a regular series, with different authors for each entry.

Dammit Handlen, if there's one thing you shoulda learned a LONG time ago: NEVER trust Mary Woronov!

If we can't nitpick about sexism, we can still nitpick about racism!

Anyone ever thought of what Stacy looks like naked?

Heck, I FART post-coital tangy sweat and tobacco scent!

You and me both, Jorge… you and me both.

Much as the poor script will allow, I'd like to hold my own against your fine breastseses, Fictional Strumpet.

Except of course for a lame typo. Dammit.

She will get cup up… but you will blow me first.

Don't dream it… be it…