Or Warlock...

Timon and I would go over to Pumba’s and Nala would turn us on to a hot load of mescaline crumbled into a tumbler of ether with a float of Percocet jimmies. I’d wake up with blood on my ass, and then we’d get high. Those were some good times!

Something tells me that’s what inspired Mr. Vago to write this article.

Well, I see what you mean about New England journalists, but I think that journalists of many regions have their own unique styles!

Ah, Denny...

I see Big Innocent Man has gotten to you, too.

Okay, I’ll do it.

I got a fever! And the only prescription... is more mauve.

Really? Druid is below Bard? Or did they not count classes no one has actually rolled up?

Or in the assholes of the eyes who come looking for it.

God is an illusion. Lunch-God doubly so.

God is one of us.

Hey, porg you, you porger!

He said it.

I suppose, being a GJI it doesn’t really count, but There’s already been a Polybius article on AVC:

I, personally, am a fan of peanut butter and green olives.

I’ve never been assaulted *by* the MLP aisle at Target, but I was once assaulted *in* the MLP aisle at Target.

“This is ME now!”

“Kids, Santa’s corpse is white. It just is.”

He was too busy with the Waves.