I can see viscerally not liking Clooney, he's so slick and has a giant old-Hollywood jawline, but as an actor there's nothing wrong with him. And yes, Matt Damon? WTF?

Even when I was twelve I was like, "When that guy doesn't have to say anything, he just stands there. I don't think that's what you're supposed to do."

Sticking black people with a stereotype of liking fried chicken and watermelon: racism at its most dastardly. Those are two of the most delicious foods in the world. What are they supposed to do, deny it? NOT FAIR.

Which Dr. Pepper do you drink?

You guys! You guys! He's here!

Was that the one with the extreme close-up on the guy's face as he listed the various ways society emasculates him with not so much lazy sitcom humor as barely suppressed rage? That thing was fucking scary. You expected it to end with him killing his wife with a crowbar and stuffing her into the roomy trunk of his new…

Honestly, the ending made me sad, but it was Ruben's death scene I had trouble getting over. The bubble of blood coming from his mouth fucking horrified me.

Rascal the ring-tailed wonder!

And how about The Giver? Your middle-school intro to totalitarian eugenics.

*Robert Newton Peck. I was just thinking about Soup today. I was always seeing A Day No Pigs Would Die in those lists of other titles in the first/last pages of books when I was a kid, but I never found a copy of it, and I really wanted to, because his other books were so funny and I assumed from the title that that…

That was just lying around my second-grade classroom. I probably reread it more times than any other book at that age. I remember the scene where the narrator sits in some woman's garden that has big granite rocks, and that it ended with him visiting the dead friend's house and promising his mother that he would still…

It's a great book. And the movie was a nice surprise (although if I had kids I'd want them to wait until they were watching it in hindsight too). They did a good job making both the CGI and the updated setting unobtrusive to the story.

Five dollar foot loooong

I heard some lady found a dead crocoduck in her Wendy's chili.

Did she call Mario Lopez on them?

The Sandlot is A Christmas Story for summertime. It should play for 24 hours on the Fourth of July. Outdoors. Somehow. On sheets.

You know I'd never put food coloring in my cat brains.

God, I so remember that being on the Lion King video. That and the commercial for Disney World where the two little boys are awake before their parents and the older one is telling the younger one about it as they pack a suitcase or something.

It's all downhill from "John… John Andrew… I… oh thank God…" HOLY SHIT, WOMAN.

When I read that they'd toned down the ending in the movie(s), I picked up the book to remember what it was — I remembered the events, but not the specific line it ended on. Exactly right — kick to the gut, just like the first time.