Bring your wife, we'll FUCK her! That's right - we'll FUCK YOUR WIFE!

The one day I choose to splurge on the local café's ridiculously expensive wi-fi, Eddie, and you announce you're blowing me off. You're a heartless bastard, and you can take that as the compliment it was intended to be.

Look, for me, a brief circumstantial rejection of nihilism is the closest I’ll ever come to a golden moment.

We'll always have the memory of this day to cherish. At least until one of us succumbs to dementia.

Oh, Christ… where to begin? I’ve spent the past two weeks in a cacophonous blur of pop culture and homicide – more or less business as usual, but without the tumultuous arrest and incarceration that usually caps off my anarchic sprees. (Could this be total freedom, I wonder? Perhaps I’m in some kind of Ironic Hell.)…

That's how I turned down your mother.

Note the lack of a witty alt-text quip. Nothing needs be said. Let us simply bask in this glorious moment.

Because everyone's a "cold fish"?

What on Earth are you blathering about? Do you people honestly think I go walking the streets constantly shirtless, or even naked? A nice long coat, a pair of dark glasses, and a hat, and most people wouldn't give me a second look. That's the best part of the job.

If you watch it with a particularly cynical viewpoint (as I do everything), Eulabelle is actually the most sensible and rational member of the cast, despite her preoccupation with voodoo.

I spent most of Saturday riffing over whatever cheesy, vaguely exploitative drive-in pictures I could get my hands on - The Killer Shrews, Attack of the Giant Leeches, and Horror of Party Beach, to name but a few. To cleanse my palate after such an absolute schlock-fest, I capped off the evening with 12 To The Moon, a…

Keep in mind, the show was co-created by a former Family Guy staffer who left for greener pastures. This creative theft is tantamount to robbing your ex-girlfriend's house and taking a shit on her bed.

I've been putting up with far too much from my completely non-existent harlot of a sibling. Get thee to a nunnery, rhetorical slut!

"You taste better than my sister." I guarantee you, he will never be more frightened in his entire life.

Give the people what they want, I say.

Bob Hope hasn't been doing much these days. Couldn't they just have dug him up and gave him the hosting stint he always wanted?

I'm close enough.

Thunderbird. Accept no substitutes. (There's a reason I'm four years sober, you know.)

I prefer "skull cap". Something about the etymology of that term just gives me a thrill.

Specifics matter not. The point is, Ricky Gervais hates all handicapped children, and he is terrible.