Turns out I built that campsite for fucking nothing, then.

First six episodes of Gravity Falls. Were I 9-13 again, this would absolutely be MY SHOW.

Mostly JavaHead Stouts and Mad Elves from Troeg's and Sweet Baby Jesus Porters from Du Claw. Got to clear the fridge of holiday leftovers, after all.

"Oh it's a bit cold, it's a bit cold."

Yeah, but between 1971 and 1989, he did ALL his aging.

And, according to Hirsch on Twitter, they have no plans to release any more.

I didn't expect how grateful I'd be for it either. If he had any self-control at all, he'd brush every demonstration off with a "yeah, whatever" and go back to doing what he's going to do anyway. He doesn't HAVE to care about any of this. But Trump just can't keep his cool for more than a few minutes at a time,…

Even at the press conference the next day, I swear you can see moments of him overacting his apology.

Much like how English nerds love the idea of Oscar Wilde let loose with a Twitter account, I can't help but fantasize what Orson Welles might have done today with a cheap camera and access to Youtube.

I read a piece years ago which posited that Welles' career was actually a testament to the power of talent and spectacularly GOOD luck. You know, a forty-four year career writing and directing movies is impressive all on its own, but Hearst brought a lot to bear against him when Kane was released, and the fact that…

See, now you've got me wondering. Do you recall any of the others?

Do tell . . .

I loved Steve Schmidt saying that that was the most chickenshit thing he'd heard in his professional life.

"Pretend" he knows nothing.

Vol-ume 2! Vol-ume 2!

My wife's grandfather was well into his seventies when he died, and he thought Pink was the best. "She just puts on a good show!"

*Hand goes up in the back*
" . . . I-I'm sorry, are you saying 'meow'?"

Pleasebearealthing, pleasebearealthing . . .

"If this is anyone other than Don Rickles, you're stealing my bit."

Frank Sinatra saved my life once. I was out in Vegas and these two guys jumped me in the parking lot. They were beating me mercilessly with blackjacks when Sinatra walked out of the shadows and said "OK boys, that's enough."