… it only feels the cold of the upper Midwest. Winter is coming.

This might have been one of the last of the wall-to-wall hilarious episodes of The Simpsons. The soccer match, riot, and gun behavior was, and remains, a stitch, current events be damned. In fact, I think that Homer's behavior is a pretty good argument against guns, and the idiocy of gun fetishists.

The rabid dog represents Wayne LaPierre.

Finally, spam with rock-solid advice: KEEP READING.

I don't know how much Daniel Fairfax knows about movies, but it is clear that he knows nothing about dogs.

Barstow Electronics is in an unknown California location? Really? After looking everywhere else, you might try Barstow.

If they ever make a film about giant bottles of Summer's Eve coming to life, Adam Sandler is your man.

O, Aquaman.

I was going to add, "But with bigger breasts." Then I looked at the picture again. It could be Joe Pesci, but I'm going with Caitlyn Jenner.

In the US, the 20oz pint is called an imperial pint. The bottom line is that we get a sissy's pint.

I assume that if I haven't seen the first two movies in the Sharknado trilogy, I am going to be totally lost.

Wait— what have we been eating?

"Because of our racist and sexist society, alien drakes are never properly rewarded or recognized."*

How about playing Hatesong round-robin? Track down the singer or songwriter from a song someone hated, and ask them: (a) to respond; and (b) to pick out their own hate song.

I am happy to say that I haven't heard this song before. But I'm convinced— I hate it, too.

I am so happy that David Spade is a guy. We can all agree that he isn't the least bit funny without being accused of being sexist.

As white as the AV clubhouse is, I am not sure that you have a lot of room to pontificate too much about racial diversity in the workplace.

As someone who worked as a kid in kitchens for almost ten years, mostly in menial positions— busboy, dishwasher— I rarely met a chef who wasn't an asshole. They have high-stress careers, I guess, but geezus, they were (mostly) awful people, especially to the kitchen proles.

Well, Sam, I hope that a pack of rich celebrity brats made a silly youthful mistake and licked your doughnuts this morning. Or maybe spit on your lunchtime burger.

If our new overlords talk like Charles Dance, count me in.