Stop getting all pervy on cows.

They cry so much there, they've probably evolved gills by now.

"Um, excuse me? My eyes are up here. And down here. And around here. Plus here, a little."

Stars on E.S.P. is, was, and remains a really good, really important album to me. It's one of those few whole album artifacts of indie rock that'll survive intact when the songification of popular music completely overtakes albums-as-singular-works paradigm.

He has to justify his mullet somehow.

Kofi is the name of the patriarch of the Pizza family who own Fish Stew Pizza…

Lass, Sheltie, always nice to see your avatars around here!

"Half hour"…haha.

That View Master has an additional cool function, in that holding it to your eyes makes you look just a little bit more like Strongbad.

At least you got a sandwich out of it.

Also how I prefer my porn.

Ironic, because the "stable guy" on horse farms is typically an undocumented immigrant.

Can we please not discuss any of Mr. Trump's slots?

I'm waiting for Trumpence to have its comeuppance.

I'm sure this has been discussed before, but what's going on with the suddenly-obligatory introduction-to-the-trailer-you're-just-about-to-see stab at the beginning of this? What's the impetus for such a thing?

Not all of us can be as spicy or brown as you, friend.

I had never heard this version before, nor known of its existence. I was skeptical. Now I'm like goddamn!

It doesn't look like any of those hot dogs reach the vicinity of his tummy.

In the Game of Thrones, you win, or you applaud graciously while the camera is still on you, as the winning nominee stands and embraces their spouse and producers in preparation for the walk to the stage.

Counterpoint: Louie Anderson deserves a basket of Emmys.