One of my most enduring childhood Blockbuster memories is always being afraid to walk past the copy of IT.

Who gives a shit, it’s a good show.

I mean, that “Africa” bullshit was a big viral moment. That’s their bag, now. 

Multiple levels of cringe in this comment. 

Alan Moore’s Providence does a — pardon the pun — stellar job of conveying the awesome, incomprehensible bigness of the genre — both visually and psychologically. No minor feat. 

It’s not the focus. 

I’m pretty sure Frank Black treated Kim Deal like shit.

“Telephone Line” has such a gorgeous melody. I love that song. 

She’s his assistant, not his sidekick.

I love how lucid Conan can be. His podcast has been a small delight.

Does that even matter, tho

The recognition is nice but also, like, who fucking cares about this boomer-ass bullshit in 2018? The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is just so booooooooring.

Can’t wait to watch Tom Waits in “All Red Canyon.”

It’s... beautiful.

What’s funniest to me is, like, why this dude? Why this bulb-headed, marble-mouthed dunce? 

Two thoughts I’ve had during my binge of King of the Hill:

Ah yes, what Diddy has done is surely as destructive and judgement-worthy as a month of drunk driving. Go off. 

“Reruns are toxic nostalgia” is a hot take, pardner. 

Goodness fucking gracious, this looks wonderful.