Michael Harney in The Philip Seymour Hoffman Story.

The Rifftrax for the first film gets in some nice jokes about her.

I saw Dave play a solo show at my county fair about ten years ago. It was as if one of those homeless guys you see laughing to himself had cleaned himself up and started fronting a band.

When I watched the show as a kid, I thought he was too grouchy. Seeing it as an adult makes me realize that he could be pretty damned awesome. Him being on this list is total bullshit.

For all his faults (and God knows he had plenty), he always tried. If your daughter tells you that she wants to leave her mother and come live with you (as Sally did in "The Beautiful Girls"), you must be doing something right.

I've been rewatching The Wonder Years over the last year and no way in hell does Jack deserve to be on this list. Sure, he's grouchy at times, but he's always there when it counts. How could anybody watch the episode about Karen's birthday party and think that he was a bad father?

Do Sky Captain! Do Sky Captain!

OKLAHOMA, OLKAHOMA, OKLA…

"Ghoastbustahs, whaddya want?"

This whole movie feels like one of those drunken bets that's escalated to the point where everybody involved is too chicken to admit that they just want to call it off.

Bustin'* makes me feel good*!

Now she looks a Barbie doll that was put in the microwave for a couple of seconds.

I don't think this movie is quite the masterpiece everybody else seems to, but holy crap, is Rachel Leigh Cook hot in it.

My Dinner with Andre may be one of the most watchable movies ever, but man, is Andre insufferable. When he starts babbling about how the Sixties were the time of the last genuine person or whatever I just wanted to punch him in the face. One of the genius things about that movie is that you don't necessarily have to…

I could be happy for the rest of my life with a cinnamon girl…

They sell Mini-Cinnabons now? I remember when they used to be cool, man.

I don't know who's more annoying at this point: Monsanto or the shrill, sanctimonious people who complain about Monsanto.

Don't forget Joseph Gershenson, the patron saint of music supervision.

The first time I read that one of the only times I've ever laughed so hard I literally couldn't breathe.

You know what, kick my Bat ass. I'm not just asking you, I'll telling you!