I know that the last e-mail from Ms. Bergeron is written in English in what appear to be normal sentences and paragraphs, and yet none of it makes the slightest bit of sense. It’s like an AI who modeled itself on Tappy Tibbons from Requiem of a Dream.

Apropos of nothing apart from typifying the anguished cries of the dead-ender, my favorite FB post from a reactionary acquiantance was “How will we remember history?”— to which I replied “We’ve been doing what now?”

Evidently somebody got their Queens of the Stone Age drug cocktail a little bit wrong.

Get with the program, guys, it’s all about USER-GENERATED CONTENT (sees 48 identical replies to sarcastic comment)

Mr. Show with Bob (Odenkirk) and David (Cross), 20 years ago (if the postcard narrator sounds familiar, it’s Goldblum)

I say let him get a liver transplant, tell him it’s from a black Muslim, heart pops, get the liver out again so it can do some decent person some good.

I thought his memoirs were titled Rheum at the Top

C’mon, they can’t get EVERY major championship-related story they post in such a frenetic weekend correct (wind howls).

I think they crossed the Manigault Line.

Or for that matter assume that Dr. Eaves is corrupt. Opportunistic, maybe, but there are protests organized for his concert and it would be untrue to say that parts of his constituency don’t like Kelly’s playing a venue actually owned by the county.

It’s almost as if Emmys are motivated by inertia and not merit, like the voters are lazy hacks instead of incisive critics who even watch a quarter of the shows up for consideration.

Nothing’s worth that

But what if we substituted their internet-compatible computers with a rust-prone Coleco?

Why is it never “Genie Bouchard, Friend of Wombats”?

Yeah, but I don’t like the fuckin’ Dodgers.

I think Aaron Sorkin should be given the chance to bore the shit out of a new generation of TV viewers.

I know the last answer for sure, it’s IRAQ. The others are fuzzier.

My favorite track of theirs, because I just love that Ride/Blur/Elastica sound where the singer embraces their Englishness. Plus I think Anthony Kiedis gets dissed around the 1:00 mark.