mrzsasz--disqus
Mr. Zsasz
mrzsasz--disqus

I picked up a dog-eared copy of Pet Sematary from the asylum library, managing to burn through the entire thing in about nine hours. (Didn't really live up to its reputation, in my opinion; then again, I don't have children, so that might have something to do with it.)

Or the entire Doumanian era. Take your pick.

Any SNL episode with Charles Barkley inevitably turns into a "zany" commercial for your local car dealership: the usage of embarrassing costumes (often drag) for comic effect, a vaguely confused, disoriented man delivering his lines like he's groggy on cough syrup, and another performer desperately overacting to make

You're being unfair. Lars takes personal satisfaction from the fact that Diamond Head and Budgie remain mostly forgotten and unloved.

Well, Shirleying about it isn't going to get us anywhere.

And that's when Elvis stepped in.

To be fair, it's not like these kinds of shenanigans don't happen all the time in Florida. The place is a veritable maelstrom of insanity - white trash, alligators, disenfranchised Seminoles, Cubans, and dementia-ridden senior citizens all jockeying for position to see who can out-stupid one another. I give that State

Torben Bille: great actor, or the greatest actor?

You just need adequate protection to survive in the constantly-escalating arms race that is the back alleys of Phuket. Say, for example, some punk kid tries to bash your head in with a sledgehammer. You, in turn, simply can reach into your boot, whip out a machete fashioned from a lawnmower blade and two leather

"You Are So Dead". Pronouncing the title correctly involves heavy emphasis on the word "so", because all teenage girls are depicted by Hollywood as sounding like Valley sluts from the '80's.

…At night.

I myself have never attempted this, as the police are quite familiar with who I am, and most of them absolutely despise me.

For the first time in years, I managed to pull myself from the heart-wrenching quagmire of despair that is spending Christmas alone, and all thanks to my better half. Suggesting we avoid the more ceremonial trappings of the holiday season, the lady and I spent the day engaging a low-key yet festive celebration at the

Nothing has proven itself to be a more effective business model than endlessly overhyped first issues. The fact that such practices caused the entire market to crash in 1996 is just an unfortunate coincidence. (Yes, you heard right - we're even adopting a retro business model! Embossed foil hologram covers for all!)

The only thing better than Stephen Root as Wildcat is Gunnery Sgt. Hartman as Wildcat.

Hey, that annual murder rate isn't going to spike itself.

I'm only going to say it once, but… you people really are the closest thing I have to an extended family. So… thank you for that.

Not to mention the fact that pretty much every volume is an absolute sausage-fest. Who would've thought an effete Belgian Catholic didn't believe in writing strong female characters?

I understand sarcasm doesn't often translate to print, but I assumed that one was a freebie.

Isn't that like the time where Batman announced to the United World embassy he was going to throw all the nuclear weapons on Earth into the sun, and they didn't reply because they'd been turned into dust?