So… why on Earth would Durant be allowed a solo audience with the president moments before she was going to testify against him? And yeah, I mean, what if she walks out behind him? Would his brilliant plan fall apart? And I missed his boyfriend getting killed- that was easy.

I'd settle for giving Marjorie a second character trait.

He's one of the best possession receivers of all time, Kent, go bother Bobby Joe Edmonds.

I would rather see Stuart Scott.

I could have watched several episodes of "Jonah and the Tiny Office".

He was barely there, and fine- couldn't really pass judgment either way.

In this climate, probably a net positive.

Jonah's downfall has happened WITHOUT his "white power death metal" pictures leaking?

Kent seems like a Behring hire. And if he had issues with Congressman Largent, imagine how he handled Tommy Kane.

There'd be a Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On.

That's why I referenced Marella, rather than LU- no matter what, the resolution will be a WWE one, not necessarily a good one.

That poor bastard with the sad face and the nickel sized whitehead on his Adam's apple is about the appropriate image for this show.

No, it's not a personal concern either, but you've created a no-win situation, as you point out. Carmella didn't even really DO anything to come out victorious- it felt like the match short circuited right when it was supposed to heat up, and now we're gonna dink with this some more, when you should be moving on to…

Let me pile on to the terrible optics of letting a guy win the first Women's MITB match. He should have been there to let someone split him in half, not for that.

I had missed Lana's entrance; so, is she doing a bootlegging montage from a Forties movie?

Don't tell Maurice Clemmons.

Getting married worked; now twice a week my wife tells me I freaked her out while I was sleeping.

Hitler's Spunker

Safeway needs to stop making people buy five cases of soda to get the discount, especially since their shelves have a two case per brand capacity.

I've found it wise not to tell anyone where the blood on your pants comes from.