I don't brook disrespect of Third Eye Blind. This article can lick my raphe.

Not to mention Third Eye Blind, the greatest album of 1997 or any other year.

Note "I still can't tell the two groups apart."

Neither is a one-hit wonder.

Was and is.

Thank you for respecting my journey or whatever.

4'33" (I'm a virgin).

I've always been much more moved by melody than by rhythm. I didn't even realize dancing was supposed to follow the rhythm until I was like twenty.

The humor magazine I wrote for in college suggested that his second album be titled I Bega You, Please, Buya My Second Album.

Last month, a few days before my thirty-second birthday, I found my first gray hair. And my second. I don't know which is which.

It's no surprise to me.

I'm a man, but I'd be lying if I said Smokey Robinson's "Cruisin'" hadn't repeatedly knocked me up.

"Bal" (checking my checking balance). This game sucks.

Stay woke.

It's an "old internet joke" to post a photo of a potato? When was this?

Why does every POTUS like to golf? Can't we have one who'd rather play air hockey?

Now I'm having a flashback to Kate Beckinsale and Frances McDormand making out in Laurel Canyon. Yow.

They are. I got called a twat for calling out hebephobia.

Things the right openly opposes: social justice, pajamas, snowflakes. Look for "puppy lover" to become a pejorative in short order.

When keeping it real goes wrong.