I think I.V. pulled some dark arts and summoned the spirit of Roger Ebert to write that line.

If a fighting game doesn't have me beating up ninjas and punk rockers on a thinly disguised Pirates of the Caribbean theme-park ride, I don't want to know about it.

Dowd looks at the camera, smiling. Freeze frame. Credits roll as studio audience applauds and the theme song, titled "That's my Dowd!", plays.

The Wicker Man remake loses on a technicality: Nick Cage actually dies from immolation after having bees poured on his face.

Civil liberties? More like civil libtard-ies.

Or "The horror. The horror." This is what echoed through my head as I tried to sleep on the night of November 8th.

You're right. Hypothesizing about a universe without electromagnetism is a null exercise since it would be completely unrecognizable in the first place. Maybe it would be best to leave it at this: Proximity is a function of scale, and scale depends upon one's perspective.

Yes. It's akin to saying that your feet "touch" the ground when you're standing: in actuality, because of electromagnetism, none of the atoms in your shoes touch the atoms that make up the dirt beneath it.

I'd rather have an origin story exploring how Charlie's grandparents became bedridden.

It is pretty crazy, and trying to make an informed vote on every single measure and public office takes quite a bit of research. I assume a lot of people make a lot of uninformed decisions once they get cast their votes for president and possibly US senator. I've ended up not voting on local judges before because I…

It depends on how long the line is, which differs from precinct to precinct and on time of day, but it took me less than five minutes to vote this morning because there was no line.

I don't know, man, I've gotten trashed on wine tasting tours. If you actually swallow all the wine they pour you, you end up drinking a glass every 10-15 minutes. You just need to have some poor bastard driving you from winery to winery.

Finally, some bi-partisanship in this country.

"This is not what a restaurant is about. A restaurant is to go to get a little bit full, and pleasantly derange the taste buds, and have a good time, and interact with other people, or make bad caloric decisions, or feel bad about your life. It’s not to sit there fucking analyzing food."

The second I saw officer Hops on screen, I thought "Yep, you're going to be in a lot of porn on the Internet."

They may claim to be international, but their red, white, and blue pancakes are nationalism of the most insidious variety.

That's OK. We get to stay up way past their bedtime.

Snort a line and you'll be able to comment as fast as Trump on a 3AM post-debate binge.

—OF CO

Thanks for the pedantry; it's been awhile since I played it. I loved pretty much everything about that game that wasn't the gameplay (the murder mysteries, the promotion/demotion arc, the voice acting, the environments, all the period-accurate detail—my god, the detail).