My last trip to the Rocky Horror Picture Show assures me that you are 100% incorrect.

Oh god, I once taught a short summer course with a Muslim student whose first name was Islam.

I was given a collection of the “Just So” stories, by Kipling, when I was roughly eleven. A lot of them are, well, origin stories: “How the Elephant Got His Trunk,” “The Beginning of the Armadillos,” etc. I am 100% sure my folks did not remember the content of all those stories and poems when they gave me the book -…

Did you just fuck with John Noble? BECAUSE EVEYTHING HE DOES IS BEAUTIFUL AND PERFECT.

I totally identify with Kasich on this one.

I have something in the neighborhood of 1300 books. (Moving is a bitch.) I’m trying not to add too many more, and every so often I go through ritualistic book purges in which I comb my shelves, decide what I’m probably never going to look at again, and put together some boxes that I take to Half-Price Books for cash…

And none be nun.

Really? I like him fine. Maybe I’m just 90s nostalgic, but he seems pitch-perfect for me as a disaffected 90s teen.

Well, I just had an eighteen-year-old explain to me that black people deserve it, because black people are just more likely to be assholes. That black girl who got smashed into the wall by her school resource officer? She absolutely deserved it.

I have pissed enough beer from Scots pubs to make me at least as good as the guy I spotted dropping a deuce behind the dumpster at The Globe in Edinburgh. The topless drunken slapfight I engaged in over a stolen bottle of vodka during my tenure in Brighton is a footnote to my dedication to being banned.

I’m not sure why (maybe because she’s been in the news recently), but I read that as being about Obama and Michelle Bachmann running science fairs, and I spent like two minutes convinced you were a goddamned lunatic.

How sore is your dick from fucking the outrage machine raw?

Oh please oh please oh please add musical numbers about Gypsy Rose Lee living with Carson McCullers and WH Auden, as well as Rose shooting her lesbian lover and defenestrating a guy.

I burned half the skin off my inner arms doing spotlight for that number. Ah, the joys of shitty community theater equipment.

I love me some Bernadette Peters (and we share a birthday! Though not the same year!), but I gotta say I really liked Midler and her unexpected chemistry with Peter Riegert.

It should be noted that Robert Dear didn’t just kill three people; nine more were wounded. Their names and identities are protected because to release them would result in threats against their lives, health, and livelihoods by anti-abortion crusaders. (As it is, at least one of said crusaders called Tarkovsky a “baby…

I am totally biased in that I have only read books in this genre which were written by friends of mine, but I think they’re decent.

I have to say that I am genuinely impressed with the level of creativity involved in the game design overall. That’s some second-level shit. Never discount the imaginative powers of teenagers when alcohol is involved, I guess.

See, that’s the thing: you know exactly what the potential long-term effects are of the prescribed pills.

The only thing I remember about Birute Galdikas from my undergrad archaeology class is that she discovered that something like 80% of adult orangutans have broken bones that have healed, because that’s what happens when something that weighs 300 pounds falls out of a tree. I still find the mental image of frequently…