With the commodification of The Day of the Dead in the US over the past five years I expect it and the merchandise to do very well.

Ewwww.

You can also capitalize, and this works (which is how I read it before reading a second time).

Here’s your star. Damn you.

Jan’s just pissed because she immediately started humming Brick House and realized no one ever started humming that when she passed by.

I just click, “I’ve whitelisted,” on my desktop because I put up with enough junk on my phone that I really feel like you all can let me get some damn peace and quiet at my desk.

Trying to decide what HBO eventually replaced it with as their, “No one is watching TV at this time of day, let’s show the same thing a billion times” movie, and I think it was Overboard.

Their boredom with Mr. Mom was one of the only things that did not ring as period-perfect to me, because there isn’t one single one of us who doesn’t rattle off, “Thirty-eight, thirty-nine- whatever it took,” and in the 80s Michael Keaton was a god.

James Earl Jones is Vader, and one of my biggest theater-going disappointments was sitting there in 1983 and seeing the face plate lifted off that helmet to see- Sebastian Shaw. I mean honestly.

Unrelated-

I will give you all of the roasted red pepper hummus if you will let me hoard the pine nut hummus.

“Whitepeople Energy”

Ugly insides show up on the outside. For people who pay attention to such things.

I live in the next county over. I’ll bet you’re correct.

13. ’80s rap music

This was directed at me this morning- along with many other hysterical shrieks. Yeah. That’ll work.

They were supposed to get Raptured last weekend, but it was a bust.

5:42am and I had to turn donkey-braying into a Muttley laugh and ended up coughing my head off.