Plus remember that 2016 has a leap second. The year won't even FUCKING END when it's supposed to.

No mandatory family leave.

The distressing thing…well, A distressing thing among many…is how easy it is to forget that he spitefully bullied a handicapped reporter, in front of a crowd, on television, because of the other horrible things he did.

In today's story, a frog learns that a scorpion is still a fucking scorpion.

Yeah, that's impressive. I think I dropped 8 bucks or so at the used record store across the street from my college campus.

Bo Jackson can't hold a candle to Bones Jackson of the Mutant League.

Nintendo Power actually revealed a secret code that unlocks the 2001 Patriots. It starts up-up-down-down then you bathe your cartridge in the tears of 20 infants who burned to death in white magnesium.

I actually owned a copy of YKTR, the only CD of that album that I have ever physically seen. It's underrated. "Happy Phantom," "Happy Workers," "Cool on Your Island" are all pretty darned good pop songs.

Mean Girls.

That sounds like a promise.

But you can accomplish the same thing with a "shocker" decal or the Monster logo.

Trump's poll watchers better keep an eye out for Moby. He's going to try and vote on the east side (with his friends), and on the west side (with weapons in hand, no less!), and even the north side and south side as well. I hope he won't die.

Unfortunately I can't do so. Doesn't really matter, though, because Connecticut is nearly as blue as a Siberian husky's eyes. My vote matters not an iota.

But normal sometimes gets with crazy, and sometimes ends up regretting it.

I can't believe that we're approaching the 30th anniversary. I grew up in a suburb of Chicago, so I very vaguely remember people talking about it when it happened.

So talk-show interviews are pellet guns now?

Only in that everyone involved is likely to end up homeless and insane.

Tomato, tomahto.

In that they're both fucking awful, right?

It's still real to Mr. Fins, dammit!