Here's hoping Jeremy Davies and pal are low-rent enough to be shooed off by a scolding. Otherwise, I fear that sassing the loan sharks won't end well for the stupidly named Janey-E. (Related: I wonder what her plan is for the remaining $400,000 of Mr. Jackpots-gotten gains?)

The security guard being basically the only person to encounter Dougie and think, "This dude needs help" was surprisingly moving.

It's Vegas, baby! Nothing's real or has a sense of history or place there. Dougie could've been constructed up to 25 years ago as a transplant from away (maybe Evil Coop even used his government comptuter to fake up any necessary docs). He gets the career and family, starts philandering, gambling, and pudging out in…

I happened to rewatch the "Bookhouse Boys Go to One-Eyed Jack's" scenes over the weekend and noted that Coop was a card-counting Mr. Jackpots then, so maybe these are innate mysterious abilities he always had.

I think I will totally cry if they pull off a secret Bowie cameo. (Hell, I'd prob get teary if someone at the Bang Bang Bar walked by in an Aladdin Sane shirt.)

And 315 is the room number on the Great Northern room key in DougieCoop's pocket.

Since most of the OG TP cast haven't been consistently on the radar since 1991, suddenly seeing them again is a jarring reminder of time/mortality (esp. considering the cast members who died between then and now). It feels like that subtetual sense of time/mortality is a serendipitous emotional note that Lynch was…

The "my shadow is always with me" part kind of makes sense in a TP-verse way, but delivered in a goofy package to intentionally distract you from it.

I was chalking that up to the influence of the host. The spirit infects the host, but in return the host infects the spirit. Or something.

Phish is for nice Jewish boys playing at being hippies, not actual burnout types.

I had two Gabriel speculations. 1. He locked himself away in that church while his parishioners got et (and hence the "You will burn" etching on the church. 2. He's in with the Termites as a person who helps procure "game" for them–and they pay him in flesh here or there. These specs are not mutually exclusive:…

A friend's mother hand-knitted a red panda sweater for my daughter. It was unbearably cute. Now that it's too small for her, I want to find a teddy bear (or other stuffed animal) to wear that sweater.

Today in "Things You Just Assumed Weren't Legal Because It Is So Obviously A Bad Idea": 9-year-olds being allowed to shoot at a range. (See also: people being allowed to have tigers and shit—that guy a couple of years ago in Ohio who had a friggin' zoo he released before committing suicide.)

She has got to be trolling the media with her fashion choices. To say something? About like feminism or lookism or something? (But if so, why do it with couture and not a thrift store schmatte?) Because there's no way you could look in the mirror and think that is the best costume of the day, and if you did, you…

Right? If it makes a 6' tall 17-year-old look dumpy, I'd cry if I saw it on me.

Not to mention the sanitary issues, since many childhood illnesses spread through fecal matter. So having to safely clean/store used cloth diapers for multiple kids is introducing another breach point for the potential spread of sicknesses, while also adding to the cleaning/sanitizing workload these workers already…

Maybe swaddled in blankets, for a corgi-chilada effect?

I still love her as Sookie St. James on "Gilmore Girls." This Sookie (as opposed to Stackhouse) was smart, funny, great at her job, fell in love/got married/had kids—and her weight was never ever an issue, and in fact was never mentioned.

The drive across Pennsylvania is so bad that you're thankful to reach New Jersey.

Joe Manganiello was much too far below the fold...