Whereas I prefer my foods not to approach the form and consistency of a saltine. They did it to pizza crust, now they're doing it to burger patties. Not cool.

No wonder they taste so much like the process that destroys a living soul!

This cool story bro may just be the coolest cool story bro ever. Bro.

And a crisped parmesan cheese disc? That's something those umami junkies always howl about including on their burgers….

Honestly, the only thing I found enjoyable at Sonic was the Ocean Water beverage.

Nah. I keep offering, but he never accepts.

The lower half of a Big Mac.

That's never a conflict for me.

What about potatoes? Or do those not fit into the veggie category to you? (And I can see why they wouldn't, but still…)

Well, Dan Wilson of Semisonic is probably doing just fine financially. But that's more due to his having co-written huge, Grammy-winning hits for the Dixie Chicks ("Not Ready to Play Nice") and Adele ("Someone Like You"). I'm sure he's happy to still get that "Closing Time" royalties check, though.

This gentleman needs to develop a product that will extract his head from inside his own ass.

I never saw it as a song being "sung" externally, if you know what I mean. It (and much of the music on Pet Sounds) feels inherently reflective, internal, and personal. So I always contextualized it as the sort of thing one says "to" someone in their head, at least partially. This one song especially. "You Still…

All-hamster Doors cover band, yes.

The "sexy" inquiry is necessary due to the vague meaning of one "wanting" someone's body. Perhaps the young lady is an aspiring embalmer. Or has the capability to possess others supernaturally. Or maybe he suspected she "wanted" his body in the envious/dysphoric sense. It really helps to focus the song's meaning, as…

You are the Eg man?

Butterscotch Krimpets, preferably while listening to Pet Sounds. It's the day of reckoning at the AV Club.

Pet Sounds, the end.

The diving cage was actually a time machine, and the shark was its own father.

Those both work, but airy death simply doesn't.

Actually, it's gender studies. His dissertation on outdated societal Smurfette roles is impressive.