PG-13. I guess I can bring my kids to the wedding, thanks.

Pretty good, but the annual Dead Rabbits vs Bowery Boys vs Whyos game is the best.

I knew Tom's interview segment was going to be rough from the get-go, when he gritted his teeth, cuffed his chin, and tossed his head, but I thought it was going to be along the lines of "Well, Alex, I'm going to make a film about my wife who just died in a horrible accident."

It's a draw. They trade hollow victories: Rumsfeld sees us as getting outsmarted again, and we see him as too smart for his own good.

Had to look up Uniqlo; wish I hadn't.

Problem solved. I present to you: The Shannon and Cooper Stone Memorial Garbage Receptacle.

Ewe know it.

Now, with 100% more quantum computing hardware!

White man's burden, huh?

If anything is anathema to the Art of Manliness, it's proper beer pouring instructions.

Needs more JNCO.

Are we counting persons of Jewish decent as white?

Wok-a wok-a!

The 1 meter relay.

Last minute relocation to Chinese ghost city still an option.

These are my Super Bowl Press Credentials, Mother. From Army.

§11. Other. Fuckin', whatever bro!