I thought nothing could outdo Gaad's sad face at the window, but then Philip packs all the sad into a face he can when Martha asks how long it'll be before he joins her in Russia. Damn.

They both invested in a dinosaur skull scheme that Nic Cage insisted couldn't go wrong. It did.

The Beef and Dairy Network (recently joined with Maximum Fun) continues to be essential.

Between this and Mad Men, I like how Brett Gelman is insinuating himself into critically acclaimed TV these days.

Yes, yes, that's very well and good, but where's the vitriolic bigotry? We've standards to uphold!

Another strong entry after last week's. I have yet to give season six a rewatch, but seven is shaping up to be stronger on my initial viewing.

"I hate the Flemish. No guile. No elegance."

Another line delivery I quite liked this week, from Dylan Baker, paraphrased: "Our bosses don't know what they're doing. You've realized that…haven't you?" Man, I love some Dylan Baker.

"That's…that's crazy."

We Need to Talk About What We Talk About When We Talk About Everything Wrong With What We Talk About.

Plus, Ernie—those shirts? I mean, casually, sure, but with a tie?

Like brother, like brother: Chuck tries to intimidate the copy guy with the ol' "I'm an officer of the court!" routine, which Jimmy also tried back in episode one when knocking on Tuco's abuelita's door.

I suspect there's very little difference between him and his Rich Dicks character.

The background art in the Korean Friendship Bell scene was superb.

Like Baal!

Allo!

Seeing a plaid suit next to a counter full of food being prepared did bring bittersweet thoughts of Hannibal, though…

He is an albumman.

Now I know where that number in Hail, Caesar! came from!

Cranston shows up in his Trumbo Man outfit. Oh, wait. Wrong movie.