Though I never actually met Wilfred Brimley, I met an old lighthouse keeper who said he saw him, once, at a distance. It was a foggy night, however, and the old man admitted than in retrospect it may have been a Ford Festiva.

I've daydreamed about doing stand-up and have even written some routines. Then I remember that I'm awkward, nervous, unfunny, and no one likes me.

If they're real, that's an impressive time commitment. You'd have to find the quotes and organize them by topic so that you could access something vaguely relevant quickly.

Same for me, but it was some presumably horrible show called Kwiky Koala.

I remember the wartime Bugs Bunny ones having a lot of Japanese stereotypes, and yeah all cartoons from that era did blackface gags when someone was near enough to an explosion to blacken his/her face.

Really? Well, kids' programming then.

There's really no need for them, as there are cartoon networks that show cartoons 24 hours a day.

Skeletons…is there anything they DON'T know?

Against my better judgment, I will admit that I own and occasionally wear a black Greek fisherman's hat (albeit without the metal thing that Martin's has in the photo above). Though I'm not Greek and don't know the first thing about fishing, I feel that having watched Zorba the Greek twice entitles me to wear it.

I really don't have a lot of questions to ask him that he'd be likely to answer. Once we got the initial important questions out of the way (e.g. "Are you REALLY George R.R. Martin?", "REALLY?" and "YOU?") I'd only have questions about where the narrative is going. I suspect he wouldn't answer those, for fear that…

Welcome to a.v. afterhours. It gets a little…BLUE.

It's just that Mickey's leg makes him more tilted if you were to look without camera tilting. Their centres of gravity are actually the same (roughly straight up and down), but the camera is tilted.

Many Shubs and Zuuls will know what it is to be roasted in the depths of a sloar THAT day, I can tell you!

Big enough to make me your very best friend.

Goddammit—we can't wear hipsacks, we can't carry a murse, we can't wear cargo pants. How in the hell am I supposed to carry around my collection of antique rectal thermometers?

What you're seeing is simply the result of the camera operator tilting the camera slightly to give the impression that Hamill is poised in "ready position" (in this case, apparently, he's ready to decapitate Mickey Mouse).

That's not how neck-wattle dewlaps work. They need to be continually basted with tears, to prevent fall-apart.

He turned into William H. Macy so fast, I hardly noticed.

Well, maybe it just seemed good compared to the other shite we had to read in that class. *shrugs*

I haven't read any Atwood since my lit degree, when she was regularly thrust upon us. In one class, we did both "The Edible Woman" and "Alias Grace". I thought the former was a really good book, but all the men-are-cannibals imagery gets a bit over the top. I mean, you eat ONE fucking woman and suddenly you're a…