I don't know. I just finished reading The Guardian's long read on the exploitation of major disasters to push massive privatization efforts through, and found it interesting. Granted, I didn't have to listen to Scarborough's dumb ass.

Joe looks like a living Dilbert character.

He is kind of like a less cuddly, less relatable, less likable Auric Goldfinger.

Their ratings have increased: so no one wins.

No, you're actually Jude Law.

He thinks that's bad, if he goes to Milan, he may run into Silvio Berlusconi!

It generates all of its air-flow by moaning.

Now I want a morose, contrarian, Morrissey desk-fan for my office at work.

That officer Barsanti is a loose cannon! He needs to be taken off the beat for a few weeks, and made to write articles where he doesn't do a final spell-check before publishing!

I think, under the circumstances, it's a bit tasteless to start singing the Italian national anthem.

I've had worse experiences with a bad cop-picola.

No, that's because I'm a Jewish Irish Socialist. Which, to be fair, is why I would do that if allowed on the links.

If I were allowed to play golf, I'd strip naked, paint myself blue, and rocket around the green in a buggy blasting Carmina Burana.

You were great in Amadeus, sir.

Get raped by a bear? Maybe rap about Leonardo DeCaprio? The kids like him, right?

Bit of a tangent, but I always imagine God looking and sounding exactly like F. Murray Abraham. On a good day, for a goof, he becomes Mel Brooks.

Someone with a death-wish, click on this link and report back.

*God hears you, and subcontracts with Satan and Shiva to make Donald Trump write a tweet which sparks nuclear war on the Korean Peninsula. Into your ear, before driving you insane with guilt, he whispers, "interesting enough for you?"*

If you listen to golf course music while taking a dump, is it still golf course music?

*flips the safety off*