I unabashedly love this show, but even for me it's starting to feel like six episodes in a row of table-setting (admittedly interspersed with interesting character development). This better be one hell of a dinner party by the time the season's over.

"The anthropological subcategory exclusively comprised of candy corn-ass White people who’re convinced they’re king-sized fucking Snickers" is the best sentence of the 21st century and I'm not even exaggerating.

La trahison des moustaches

The health food thing didn't strike me as unusual — it was a fairly generalized trend by then, even if it wasn't exactly mainstream. I lived in a town (not in Kansas, but not California, either) in the early '80s that was half the size of Topeka, and we had a couple of stores with bins of carob-covered raisins and…

Yikes, I guess I should give this another chance because I thought it was so unbearable that I gave up halfway (though I, too, will never complain about a Gilbert Gottfried cameo). I should say I had no idea it was an Amy Sherman-Palladino production when I started watching it; not only have I never seen one of her…

Agreed. There's absolutely no way Kimmel would intentionally create that kind of confusion and potential heartache for so many people associated with two separate films. I mean, maybe Crazy Ira & The Douche would do it, but Kimmel's just not that mean-spirited — nor (as someone whose own Hollywood gig is dependent on…

In my opinion, it's very good (with some minor flaws) for the the first two seasons, then in season 3 it just becomes flat-out fucking AMAZING.

Yeah, I believe Weller's actual words were "what fucking part didn't he get?"

Johnny Marr did indeed. Paul Weller's also let Cameron have it a couple of times over the years re: Cameron's claim that the Jam's "Eton Rifles" was his favorite song while he was at Eton.

"Thank you, this is very encouraging" — Tom Waits on being inducted into the RNRHOF

Android, same. Basically have had to give up reading the AV Club on my phone entirely.

Nicely done, Alaska! (A sentence I never thought I'd type.)

I fully expected this to include the detail that LePage had changed his named to Tankerbell and announced he was running for senator next.

I once spent an ill-advised summer, age 11, reading The Exorcist and Helter Skelter and stashing steak knives under my pillow with which to battle either the demons or the drug-crazed cult members who were undoubtedly coming for me.

Surely RaHoWa would jump at the chance to get back together for one last gig!

This is sadly true. If I could go back in time to shake some sense into my 7-year-old self regarding that particular crush, I would totally do it.

Thank you for this rant. Mike Love brings out such incoherent, apoplectic rage in me that I mostly just end up spewing vomit while my head spins around whenever his name comes up.

I'm a cool rock aunt, thanks very much, and my vintage tears are for Kraftwerk!

Yes to all this, plus bonus points for the perfect deployment of "cultural superstructure"

He's been emotionally scarred ever since Grandpa Trump took his nose, too. SAD!