Again, most Americans can't either. And that's fine, as most Americans aren't running for Persistent, and a serious candidate really should bone up on who they will be working with. But most Americans would struggle as much. I got Beiber Trudeau, and he was only just elected, or hatched. I'm not sure how Canadian…

You never want to make the joke that everybody already made in their head.

Bad times for Ray.

The Bryan Cranston of rape. Just a total pro. Completely dedicated to the rape.

The shoes do not look cool. They look like a Nintendo Power Glove for your feet. The only people old enough to be nostalgic for these kicks are too old to dress that way without looking desperate.

The first guy in space.

Not my tempo.

"Hitler, Mein Kampf was really bad."
"You're really bad."
"Say you're sorry."
"No."
"SAY YOU'RE SORRY."
"NO."

I've been there. There is nothing in between the two. You were better off getting a speedie in Binghamton or waiting until you hit Syracuse (or vice versa depending on where you were headed.)

I guess. I mean most music sounds like it could be in a commercial. But this one doesn't sound like it can exist outside of one.

Blister in the Sun is in my top five hate songs. It is irredeemable.

"At zero six hundred we will begin painting a mountainscape. It will be snowcapped and majestic. We will begin with a series of knife strokes and work on a smoothe blend. At zero six fifteen you will splice footage of me feeding a baby squirrel from a miniscule bottle. At zero six seventeen we will construct a meadow…

I'll never understand how this man was a drill sergeant, of all things. If anybody has a clip of some military personnel screaming at some maggots to create some happy little pushups, I will pay you money for the audio.

Stupid question: Wouldn't the casting director get that information when they contact the actor or actress anyway? I'm sure they'll need some form of identification before they get the job. Or does the actors union handle that?

My aunt dogsat for Leon Redbone. Robbie Redbone was a really cool Jack Russell Terrier who was missing a segment on all four legs. So he was this lowriding high energy dog that used to get up in every other dog's buisness, but only to play. That was a good dog.

Wasn't all bad. If you had some weed and found a girl who was into Sublime, you had a pretty decent chance at getting laid. Just don't go falling in love. Because that girl will steal all your weed.

Everybody in my college played this shit non stop. Or at least it seemed like everybody did. Which was weird because my freshman year wasn't until the fall of 1999. State school if you were wondering.

I'm pretty sure had I been alive at the time I wouldn't have liked the Beatles for a good year or two after the white album because I would still be prejudiced against their shreiking teenage girl fans. It was literally the last time teenage girls got it right (Though I still don't care for that I wanna hold your hand…

Then they're insane. I don't care how rich you are, you keep pumping out crap if somebody pays you a million dollars an episode (2 for Tim), and you do that forever. It's not like Richardson had anything better to do.

It's a good movie, but I've read more and more articles that are retroactively calling it one of the great underappreciated movies. It was getting the "great" tag right around Rickman's death. Again, it's fine.