Eric Stoltz—sexually frustrated suicidal grease monkey. Nice opening montage.

All shows starring women who were better playing it straight to their funnier co-stars. Why couldn't one leading woman be the funny one? Just one, I ask.

What if on your deathbed, instead of having your life flash before your eyes, you see all the wigs Nicolas Cage wore in his multiple action-film roles?  I probably should get off the Internet now.

Yes, parenthood simply adds to the roster of people expected to revolve around the narcissist.

Oh boy! Whoop! Have no explanation as to why I like his films so much, but I think it has something to do with the little humiliating moments he captures that so reflect urban life in your early 20s. Plus the dance numbers.

He was great at telling fat jokes. That's what America is missing: Growing Pains fat jokes.

Ooh. Ouch. Gleh. Cannot turn away… it's over. *heavy sigh*

The newish book, "Everybody Loves Our Town" by Mark Yarm has dozens of fabulous Courtney anecdotes and quotes. Basically everyone in the Seattle music scene hates her guts but in very articulate and understandable ways. She did help Mark Lanegan go to rehab and it apparently worked, so score one in her favor. But…

"You're the killers! Your whole sick society! That's who's guilty, man! We're just your lousy escapegoat!"

The sister-fucking scene—they're all listening in—why?

MONDO.

She's so cool, which makes this cover even cooler.

By that thinking, if she puts herself in a lifestyle-induced coma, she'd be even cooler!

Me too. Great article—thank you, Todd. Two smart people dying is too sad—I'm glad they obsessively put their thoughts down on paper.

I thought Frances was so clever in that book. I still do. What an excellent author he was.

Hoo boy. If this were any other forum, her fans would be commenting away about how much she changed their pre-teen lives for the better and how much they'll always love her, revealing thought processes that I WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND.

Now I'm going to hear that bombastic Bravo promo announcer shout, "Bravo's POOCHIE!" every time they promote this show, which is constantly. It will make it just a tiny bit more bearable.

I'm old and I heartily endorse the typewriter task.

Hee hee! I still have my mix tapes around here somewhere. All my cassette players are dying on the vine though.

What a sad backstory. One of the reasons I love "Crooklyn" is that it reflects my 70s-era childhood, even though I grew up in a mostly white suburb east of San Francisco. We did all the same things as the kids in the movie, listened to the same songs, and watched the same TV shows. Lee really got the era and its…