Yet another "food" corporation calmly stares into the cold, black abyss that is the approaching heat-death of the universe and screams into the inky black void: "CHEETOH'S POWDER, MOTHERFUCKER!!" At the very end of all things, this would be seen as yet another act of hubris on the part of mankind…But until that time,…

UNCLE SAM ISN'T WEARING A FLAG-PIN? WHAT KIND OF COMMIE, SOCIALIST MICHAEL MOORE PROPAGANDA IS THIS?

I'm pretty sure that "JUST DO WHAT HE DOESN'T EXPECT YOU TO DO," is actually a chapter in Sun Tzu's The Art of War. Hell, I think it's the subtitle to The Art of War, Machiavelli's The Prince and every book ever written on game theory. She prefaces her advice by saying: "I KNOW NOTHING OF WAR." Now tell me: what kind…

It's good to be self-aware. I discover new things to NOT google each and every day.

It is difficult, if not impossible, to apologize for a fart you unleashed a day ago. In fart terms, Wild Wild West was a giant, mechanized, overtly racist fart, and those can be particularly hard to apologize for, let alone waft out the window. As a real world example, Senator Strom Thurmond was the Wild Wild West of…

I too liked that Jon embraced his inner Jack Burton, but "fuck it" is not a particularly effective military command.

Militarily speaking, the Wildlings were never going to be anything but meat-shields. You saw just how difficult it was to get their LEADER to understand the concept of flanking. For Jon, the strategy was always to take as many of the Wildlings as he could and send them screaming head-first up Ramsey's ass. I believe…

I Rickon he should have shown a bit of self-control. In the end, though, at least we got to see Sansa give Ramsey the Littlefinger. The Hound himself could have predicted the ending—Sander Clegane, not any of Ramsey's hounds. Their mouths were too busy turning Ramsey's face into a paste to comment on his rather timely…

As a commentary on Reaganomics and the Republican Skeleton-aliens of the 1980's, I find They Live to be remarkably accurate—save this one scene. There is no way the Republicans(Aliens) approved the money for any such space program. If only it had been some kind of gun-based technology…Each alien propelling themselves…

There are Stark differences between Leeroy Jenkins and Jon Snow.

Don't forget We're Only in It For The Money! Listening to this album from beginning to end helps you really understand the depth—and wit—of his criticism. Zappa's concept of music—not to mention his technical abilities— far exceeded the music of the time.

If only your pastry chef had introduced you to "The Muffin Man." Best guitar solo I've ever heard. Trademark Zappa silliness at the start, immediately followed by a true illustration of his genius.

You mean to tell me that you don't consider it a fucking requirement that each novel you read list the hair/skin products your protagonist is using? What about their daily regimen? And most importantly: where do they keep the GODDAMN WATER-SOLUBLE SPERMICIDAL LUBRICANT?

Finally, a clip from the She-Male Reformatory videotape he rented(and returned) in the book. The title of the video is far more clever than I originally thought. I'm now forced to consider what videotapes this American Psycho is constantly renting, returning and re-renting—and if I can masturbate to any of them.