Just call him Grolomon Sundy and be done with it.

As a fleshless spirit, my pleasures exist solely in the aesthetic realm. Hence my highbrow pretensions… despite my lack of actual brows.

Your top-notch supervillains wear bespoke fetish gear, not off the rack bustiers and Slipknot-brand dog collars.

I tried a delicious 3-year-aged Gouda at the cheese shop recently. Nice, salty crystals. Delicious.

She's still in grad school and working on her Evil PhD. Hell, she's still shopping at Hot Topic.

Perhaps he could team up with Salem from Sabrina the Teen-Age Witch?

The Man in the High Castle and McCormick

"Ach! Th' faeroh will be wantin' ye ta geet goon' onna tha' there piruhmid, woncha?"

Call me when they make Homer's frozen pie crust, cloves, and Tom Collins-mix pie. Or better yet, his patented Moon Waffles.

Forget about it Eazy, its Shandytown.

We were really counting the days for Nolan Gould to reach the age of majority

Schindler and I are like peas in a pod! We're both factory owners, we both made shells for the Nazis, but mine worked, damn it!

And Elvis is in Joan Rivers, but he's trying to get out

Two episodes in, with all sorts of discussions about the Rand Corporation, and nobody's made a reverse vampires joke?! For shame AVClub!

So like most porn?

For a guy named Iron Fist, his clothes are awfully wrinkled.

Rum, Sodomy, & the Lash by the Pogues. "The Sick Bed of Cúchulainn" is perfect for tearing each other's clothes off.

She's still hiding in the walls of the club house, running the Deep Commentariat, watching you through your microwave.

The words "2000 years later" filled me with such dread I cried out "oh come on!" filling the darkened theater with my horror that the film wasn't yet over.

The thought of Luke getting into college was so absurd to her it caused her to break a rib from laughing?