It’s not an item as much as an artistic commission, but my friends all know that the first sign I’ve won the lottery will be the Studio Ghibli animation folks releasing their remake of the “Take On Me” music video, created for ‘an anonymous patron’.

“The female children barely dressed”

Between this and the Boston Magazine profile of the psycho who started Gamergate, it’s been Deranged Stalker Week on my newsfeed.

While I normally think reality shows are a plague on the country, I would totally watch a show set in this place.

It’s a tricky line, though. There’s a webcomic and YouTube troll, Jim Profit, who seems to honestly feel that anyone who bans him from a forum is (by his insane definition) a “rapist”. He obviously loves the attention he gets by going onto new forums, dropping the r-bomb and getting hundreds of people yelling about…

I could claim that it was for scientific reasons, since they’d introduce a new variable and would then have to shave the legs of all the other test subjects to keep things fair...but more likely, none of them had a razor that day.

I was the guinea pig and not the researcher, but my participation in a pain study went wildly off course. The researchers’ plan was to tape electrodes to the legs of their (very well-paid) subjects and test them twice, once fully awake and once under hypnosis, to see whether people under hypnosis really felt less pain…

Oh nooooo you mean in a decade or two their endowments might be only worth $80 billion? The horror!

And now I have my superhero name.

Whenever I order food I’ve never tried before, part of me is afraid of this very thing happening. “He ordered bhaji and bodhi on the same plate?! He’s dead! DEAD!!”

Darn it, I will *not* spend my entire Monday afternoon imagining Gordon Ramsay as Brother Blood spending gazillions to open a restaurant across the street to try to put Chez Titans out of business. (That’s a lie, I totally will.)

They’re only really good if you bury them in the sand and steam them for hours.

This might be the nerdiest comment I’ve ever read, and I love it.

I will bet you cash money that he’s one of those people who think their dates all go horribly “because women aren’t into nice guys.”

I hope it escalates, and we start seeing it all over a certain website that’s an anagram for “Ejzebel.”

I’ve spent ten minutes staring off into space trying to find one. The day a stage makeup class covers drag makeup? Nope. An alien looking for feedback on the robot human he’s piloting? Close but still no.

Are you getting hit by backpacks a lot? By any chance, are you one of those people who stand right near the doors and refuse to move into the middle of the train? I've noticed that these people get backpack-smacked like pinatas, and I'm okay with that.

Between Ultimatum and Red Hulk, Jeph Loeb really cemented himself a place as one of the all-time worst comic book writers. I get nervous every time I see his name in the 'Daredevil' credits; it's like going in for surgery and seeing one of the attending physicians is named Shakey McHeroinwithdrawal.

Dave Matthews, the guy who spent half a Details interview talking about how he loved sex so much he wished his nose was a penis? I don’t really associate the word ‘discreet’ with someone like that.

I have to imagine that sex with David Byrne is utter performance art. Like, giant puppets and beds that fly apart and become a city skyline while taiko drummers perform in the next room.