Fuck me
I'm 43
No really, fuck me please
Because I'm 43.

I tell myself that too.

Did anybody else read that phrase in the opening paragraph as "a bacchanal of gloppy intensity and genital after-school gaming?"

Those poor participles were left dangling thanks to leaders communicating vague antecedents.
(Of course, now the typo is fixed.)

You mean Word War I? Probably the bloody English.

The Boxer track that gets to me is Slow Show, especially the piano transition to the outro.

Along with those, I'd add the bridge sections in Skateaway.

It still hasn't healed right.

I saw them on their most recent tour (Jacksonville in April) and they closed their first encore with a 7 minute version of Porch that was absolutely amazing. Best version I had ever heard them perform.

It's my dick. It was that kind of party.

"Thanks to your gloomy music, my children have stopped dreaming of a future I can't possibly provide them."

It actually said EDAM AGED, but the first letter faded.

Don't make me send AV Club back to Crenshaw Pete and his hot ass coat hangers!

*hands pistol to Scrawler*

I drank the original in college, but that was less because of the taste and more because I had a roommate that would use old soda bottles as dip spittoons. After watching one of my other roommates accidentally sip what he thought was Coke, I decided I would not make the same mistake.

I lost count after I came…
Sorry, I thought we were talking about Meat Spin.

Because you were holding your hook and screaming "I'm a monster!?"

And they get caught, have to inform on their friends and relocate to Canada. Give it a nice, snappy title like Snow.

I haven't eaten there in a while, but the Firehouse by me would have actual chopped dill pickle spears to put on sandwiches. You had to ask for it though.

If it helps, the same song is used to wonderful effect at the end of "Penn and Teller Get Killed."