Hell, even Young Frankenstein showed the monster in a sympathetic light.

Misread Headline “Athletes are turning into leeches.”

“A near miss...is a hit”

Me and my brother were around 8 years old and mom and dad took us to see the 70's version of Invasion of the Body Snatchers (Donald Sutherland one) We didn’t sleep for weeks afterward- watched over each other constantly. Seeing Brook Adams disintegrate in Donald Sutherland’s hands (shudder) Think it F’d me up for…

Saw something similar, but more mind blowing back in the 90's at the Art Institute in Chicago; walked in to a room to see a huge pile of silverware, forks, knives, spoons. There was a button on the wall and when you pressed it- the spot light came on and the pile of utensils created a perfect shadow of a motorcycle…

Don’t hurt yourself jumping to that that cute little conclusion.

I have been thinking this a lot lately - there are billboards all over LA advertising the latest action film and most feature guns.

and you sound like a moron for nitpicking semantics when there are children being murdered by this weapon.

Marketing.

I make mistake? That’s unpossible!

It will be the gaudiest, smallest, and the most poorly stocked library in the world. Believe me.

Nope. He’s just another talentless loud mouth, a-hole the world is better off without. Not funny, not talented, not needed.

or until someone slaps them with a lawsuit when some dumb assed prank goes wrong.

A mime is a terrible thing to waste.

Lost my father-in-law to this 2 days before thanksgiving this year. Nothing the family could do could get him off this addiction. He was 62 years old, and over the course of the year lost so much weight he looked like he was in his late 80s. At time of his passing he weighed only 91 lbs (he was 5'10"). The kicker -…

Hence their latest billionaire relief program.

“It is going to put a lot of them in a bind: support their telecom donors or support their constituents.”

Or that we can hear pew pew pew, explosions and tie-fighters “roaring” in the vacuum of space.

Mr. President, I am a soldier. And I’m a damn good one. I’ve got enough decorations to snap a Christmas tree. All I’m trying to say is, and I hope I speak for everyone in this room, is that I am scared. I’m barely holding my... fudge, right now.

I have a vision of him being sucked up a tube a-la Augustus Gloop covered in chocolate or velveta-cheese sauce.