Yeah. I grew up during the 50s Revival, nothing but ‘Happy Days’ and Elvis movies and I grew to loathe that music, how it was forced upon me. Same with the 60s and ‘The Big Chill’ and Vietnam movies, I vowed to myself I’d never be one of those guys who forces his music on the younger generation.

I realized a while ago that I can’t discern between Oscar Isaac and [double-checks first name and spelling] Bobby Cannavale. It’s not so much that I can’t tell them apart, like Henrik and Daniel Sedin, but that I wasn’t even fully aware they were two different people. I’d see Oscar Isaac in “Inside Llewyn Davis”,…

Yeah, I never cared about the gossip mags, so when a Jenner or a Bieber has a crisis, I never bother to click, I don’t have the interest to piece all the backstory together anyway, why bother.

I was doing a leadership training course on conflict resolution, and at one point used a poignant Simon and Garfunkel anecdote about conceding for the sake of conceding, for the sake of the relationship, and I thought I’d done a good job of illustrating the point at hand, since there was a bit of a pause, silence, and…

If you didn’t care enough, then your mind shouldn’t be ‘blown’, and you shouldn’t arguing on these threads so stridently, maybe?  It’s either or. 

Bless your heart.

Exactly. Tevas are great in certain situations, camping at the lake and surfing trips and the like, they get a bad rap from those who wear them to dinner.

Fucking 1%-ers with their rooms and shoes and wives...

I must have seen “Withnail and I” a dozen times, at least, before I finally one day, decades later, saw it with subtitles, and figured out the 25% of the movie I never understood.

Aunt Myrna’s Moussaka Surprise

-1 for not starting with a “I never thought these letters were true until ...”

Besides, it’s faster to read the damn dialogue than to wait for the actor to emote the frigging words. C’mon Meryl, I don’t got all day, spit it out.

My accent-comprehension gene is missing. Anything British, Australian, Irish, Deep South, South Bronx, ‘The Wire’, Newfoundland, all the flavours of English (Manchester, Cockney, Oxford-toff, rhyming Cockney, ...), Glaswegian, Welsh, Kiwi, Shakespeare, Cajun, Deep South, Letterkenny, Southwest cowpoke, Compton,…

I was wondering if he polished off the 2 litre bottle while it was still cold, before it had a chance to warm up in his pierogi-greased hand.

Overly comfortable, you dang Millennial.  Make use of the Shift key and punctuate, you lazy no-good Tomatogatchi humper!

It was easier back in the day.

If Drew reads this he’ll just blow another gasket.

Goddamn, I was going to minus 1 you for not having the requisite “You’ll never believe what happened to me...” opener, and then I looked again and found you had the proper intro, I just glossed over it.