Not only did I not know any of the lyrics to Good Times, I had the order of the song wrong. I always thought it was “GOOD TIMES mana mah manamana ma! GOOD TIMES!” but it’s apparently “mana mah mana mana ma! GOOD TIMES! mana ma mana mana!”

Oh my god, same story but “Buona Natale.” Fuck right on off, Perry Como.

We do. We’re not entirely sure of the words, though — when we have to sing it with, say, a mostly black group of colleagues, we end up mumbling about every other line — e.g. “Hang all the mistletoe /I’m gonna get to know you better... THIS CHRISTMAS... mah mah mana mah mah / mah mah mana mah mah mah mah mah ... THIS…

I legitimately thought the Steve Martin headline was “Steve Martin takes in James Joyce at The Dead Adoption*” and was wondering how I too could adopt a dead modernist, and would they get along with my cat if I did.

Mr. Burnett proposed reinventing the inauguration with a helicopter taking off from New York City

Some of us have to fucking live here, and we’ll be the ones who actually get hurt by any rioting.

Tom Hardy has a tattoo somewhere on his body that says, “Leo knows everything.” [Page Six]

Yeah, this is the first I’m hearing about the possibility of elevator operators too — my thought process on seeing this picture was “ah, that guy’s face — HOLY SHIT, is he an elevator operato— wait, it’s Trump Tower. Of course he’s an elevator operator.”

Is your family accepting applications for adoption? Please?

Silently Furious Elevator Operator and Numb, Despairing White Guy are all of us.

You know, you’re right???? I’ve seen TV interviews with Pippa, but not her. I’m going to assume she sounds like Pippa plus an extra six months of Eliza Doolittle-type training in added poshness.

Kate Middleton is the patron saint of Basic.

To paraphrase something I saw on twitter: he won white women because a small majority of them still think they can count on white men to protect them.

He’s the boyfriend on a Sweet Valley High cover — blandly handsome and ill defined enough that we can all project our teenaged fantasies on him.

I’m really glad I don’t have to worry about Michael Douglas putting my business on the streets like that.

Oh thank God.

Cue up my recurring nightmare about my high school choir teacher yelling “Belt it! BELT IT!!!” at me as I try to sing “what’s the TALE nightingale?”

Why is Tom DeLonge allowed to have Hillary’s e-mail address to bother her with this nonsense, and yet I can’t get it to invite her to come to our girls’ night for tacos and bad movies next time she’s got a night off in DC?

King Cody is a fucking MENSA member, dammit. How dare you compare him to Ryan Lochte, Xiomi Frans-Cuber? You watch your back. King Cody will kill you in your sleep for that insult, and he’ll get away with it too. King Cody is basically the Moriarty of poodles. You don’t know what you’re saying, Xiomi. You have…

They’re slicking it back until it grows out enough for them to be able to imitate daddy’s urine soaked cotton candy combover when they need to.