“Two yachts?!? Pish posh!”

Ah, we had so much to talk about! You know, Mo Green is out of the Tropicana now; my sons, Mike and Fredo are taking over... I’m afraid I’m going to have to pull rank on you, I’m with the mattress police. There are no tags on these mattresses.

An older boy told me to!

So, these two “first kissed” on some far-flung balcony at a luxury resort in Bali?... Did they meet there twenty minutes earlier? Did they start dating and waited until they arrived in Bali to have their “first kiss?” GTFOOH. 

In the parlance of our times!...

He begins by claiming he highly doubts the existence of extraterrestrials, then wheezes through a gang of non sequiturs and contradictory statements about the existence of extraterrestrials. That’s some Rick James shit. Is this something the government should be doing whilst shut down?

Sci-fi writers are having a field day with this. It would take literal years to build, much longer than his own presidency and god willing, his life.

Apparently she “sang” and gyrated and was fine with that, but not with “singing” Happy Birthday to the guy who was not there?... Huh.

Has Chicago officially replaced Detroit as the nation’s scariest city? Are we going to see a “Take him to CHICAGO!” scene in some upcoming college rom-com?

Saw the headline and all I could think of was:

I’m fairly sure this exact scenario was already adjudicated on Cheech and Chong’s seminal 1971 eponymous album via the “skit,” Welcome to Mexico. Cheech, playing the hardline boarder agent, refuses to admit Chong, playing Jesus Christ, into the US due in part to his jacked up feet and hands (you know... crucifixion is…

Can a comment “know” something? Is this a magic show?

...keep it here... keep it here...

I was at the ‘92 playoff game. I was 15 and it was my first Lions game (why would I have gone previously?). It was also my last for about 10 more years. It was a hell of a game. That’s it. That’s the only live experience I’ve ever had with the Lions that was positive. Hells bells... Barry Sanders... Amen. 

Naming this thing “The Wall” is perfect Trump subterfuge. A wall implies continuity. What about the 90-odd mile gap in “the wall” presented by the Tohono O’odham Nation lands in southern Arizona? Or the 1200 miles of mountainous ranges in northeastern Mexico? Bloody fucking hell. This brass-plated, Swiss cheese turd…

Are you sure he’s not just cursing the commercials in a Scottish accent?

Plus there’s no way I can take anyone seriously who goes by the name “DJ.”

Huck is a wild cat. He’s a hell of a basketball player too. You’d never think it (other than the fact that he’s tall). Ran around with him a bit in the early aughts. He somehow managed to live in a Vegas casino strictly by playing video poker. 

The exclamation points... Is he yelling the entire time? Or does his voice get louder as he nears the end of each sentence?...!

What’s up with her head? I assume that’s one of those hair hats meant to make your pony mane more luxurious? It’s like an extra two inches of skull in the back. Or, maybe, just maybe!, she’s an alien? People are talking.