I hope he got twelve cows for her!

Then are you a mellow drunk, or a merry drunk? After how many drinks does dancing start?

Hye! HEY! I coment better whenI'm RELAXED, okay fugface?!? NO you shut uP! An give me my kEYs! Oh hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, I just…I get crezy sometimes

Next you're going to tell me that Kirk Cameron DID NOT leave that guy behind! I don't know what to believe!

C'mon, SPOILERS!

Go to your Rom!

There's the Remington 700 in recent times, but there was an automatic rifle of some sort as well that I remember even gun nuts in the 80s complaining about because it would occasionally continue firing in bursts after the trigger was released.

You say hell, I say 2019.

He's upvoting himself in a better place now, kids.

There's no way it will be as good as Batman vs. Superman. [ducks]

And, if I'm not mistaken, gun manufacturers don't have to answer to the same quality control standards that other factories do, because the NRA wants to keep gummint away from guns, even though inspecting a product to make sure it's safe (yeah, I know, irony) has nothing to do with a person's right to obtain a gun.

Hey, it's all kinds of millennial fun to keep glancing at your phone while attempting to pay attention to something!

And a skit where Myers was Mick and Dana Carvey was Keith, and Mick was about to marry Jerry Hall and confessed to Keith that he was nervous about his honeymoon (the joke being, Jagger and Hall had already had two kids together before their wedding).

I vaguely remember a different actor—I want to say it was Tim Curry—doing a Jagger impersonation on SNL back in the early 80s for a skit called "Mick!" which was basically Mick Jagger doing a Donny & Marie-style musical variety show. But whoever it was, that impersonation wasn't up to the level of Franken's. I wonder…

Beating things into the ground is kinda how the Internet works.

I agree with my fellow old person O'Neal. It's not A New Hope, it's not Episode IV, it's Star Wars. Now get the hell off my lawn.

That is just the perfect lyric. Very simple and also very painful and confessional. The language sounds like words believably passing through a telephone line repairman's mind as he's alone for the billionth time—and they fit the rhythm of the song exactly.

Hey, that's just a low blow.

And they wouldn't have called them "smartphones," they would have called them "cleveradios."

We've pussy-footed around our use of dirty-sounding phrases for years.