BTW, I just watched it last week with the young ones, so don’t tell me I’m remembering it wrong. It’s a pile of warmed over Bantha vomit.

There’s none of the Shakespearean space politics, enticingly florid dialogue, or experiential thrills of the best of George Lucas’s “Star Wars” entries (“Attack of the Clones” and “Revenge of the Sith”).

I honestly don’t see what so fucking wrong with that house mug topper. Then again, I work at UC San Diego:

TBF, MLB doctors and medical science are only passing acquaintances. About the best those guys could have probably done was to jam some steroid tablets in the wound.

I was reading the funbag in the shitter just now, and I got to that question just as I was reaching for some TP, with my phone resting on my thigh. I guess my thigh is broad enough to encompass the entire phone. Get out of here with your waif-like, Trumpian thighs.