I was just thinking the other day about the popular "rich white bitch" genre — Iggy Azalea, Lana Del Rey, Britney, Madonna — and you know, Annie totally called it almost 25 years ago in the rap at the end of "Money Can't Buy It":

True… And yet Dave Stewart on his own usually sucks even worse.

Au contraire, mon frere. Adam Scott's portrayal of a 17th-century French aristocratic douchebag in Hellraiser: Bloodline is, how you say, magnifique.


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("Magnifique" means "as shitty as the rest of the movie," non?)

Hey! What that swan be doin', huh?

42. Belgium.

A is for Amy, who fell down the stairs.
B is for Basil, assaulted by bears.
C is for Clara, who wasted away.
D is for Desmond, thrown out of a sleigh…

I had a high school art teacher — not a substitute, but permanent faculty — who claimed he was so exquisitely tuned into the vibrations of the universe that he could guess everyone's zodiac sign by just observing them on the first day of class.

"Intense"…? Grow up.

No, but if the children in the orphanage only recently avoided a horrible collective death at the Mario Kart attraction at Nintendoland, due to that little paste-eater Colton's mother having a "vision" while ordering her venti pumpkin spice latte, no milk, at the Starbucks stand, you just wrote a scene in a Final…

"Word Crimes" is my 2014 jam by a long shot. He took a song I hated, wrote new lyrics and turned it into a song I love. That's some kind of magic.

Well. If Prince came up to me on the street and told me he was dying and needed $20 for a cab ride to the hospital, I'd laugh in his face and tell him maybe he shoulda let his American fans pay him $20 to legitimately purchase 20ten… so, uh… suck it, Your Purple Majesty.

I'm one of them. I unfailingly buy every one of his albums, even the ones I know in advance will be crap, because there is always some percent of excellent songs in there.

Yes, but Grig. It's all worth it for Grig.

You ain't got a license to call dames "broads" and today I ain't sellin', so take your flunky and dangle.

"…Do an interview with me, which would be fascinating, by the way, because of the interesting word usements I structure…"

…which is a completely valid reason to hate a song.

…bizarre mish-mash of catsploitation, nunsploitation…

…Pope abusers?

…nnnnot quite. It's Cassavetes' whole body that explodes (lovingly shot from multiple angles and in slo-mo) which pops his head off like a cork. You can see it hit the floor and bounce.

It's fitting that David Byrne produced The B-52's at one point, because Fred is basically David's funnier twin. Try singing any Talking Heads songs in Fred's voice.

Second-hardest, after the apostrophe. To spell their name correctly, you have to punctuate it incorrectly: The B-52's.