They crave that liminal.

[…]it would be a goddamned travesty if Paul F. Tompkins wasn’t on this show, not least because he already hosted a podcast with a similar, if more specific, premise.

Are you suggesting that he's a loose cannon, but dammit, he gets results?

¿Cuomo estás?

We're doing noir films, not Morrissey songs.

2per Cancer

You and Rosie O'Donnell both.

It literally gives me goosebumps every time, even when it freezes on something silly, like a person 9/10s of the way out of the room.

I never imagined that commenting on a Wet Hot American Summer review could do so much for my self-esteem…

I'm sticking with Manilla Fairfax for now. It has an eggstation that provides real-time Cardgage-to-English transmigrations.

I endorse your theft. It serves a valuable purpose as a verb.

There weren't more than maybe three or four moments in the entire season when something briefly reminded me that they would have had to tetris the shit out of everyone's schedules to pull it off. (And one of those moments was a joke about it.)

I watched the first four in a chunk and I'm sad about already being half done. But it's so good.

This show doesn't lower itself to explain the endless parade of impossible things its characters do.

sequence movie

Since Peggy's pebble art isn't listed, the thing I'd be most likely to bid on is Lane's forged check.

Since I can think of at least one use for "Lane's Rope", I suppose you're technically correct.

Gradually drifting apart and occasionally "like"ing your friend's baby pictures on Facebook to let them know you're happy for them but still feeling weird about it because you haven't spoken in years even though you used to be super-close is not a high-concept comedy jam.

For a moment I thought that was a glib comparison, but then I remembered what America tried to do to Spaced, and now I see your wisdom.

Doesn't matter anyway. Music's done everything it can do now, and we're all basically just hanging around listening to the echoes.