Uh yeah, that's a good one, too.

But that's unpossible!

Yes, yes it is. And no, no it didn't. Moving on…

Your word is both sacrosanct and unintelligible. Neat trick.

And how do you do that? By asking them who's buried in Grant's tomb? Ha ha, I kill me.

Jessica Savitch was a newscaster who made big news, herself, by dying, or something.

Her ass goes to 11.

Drunkenly hallucinated naive slut .

The hysterical reception that his impotent Paris wet dream received proves just how deluded and oblivious is society. Woody long ago lost his comic timing and hasn't had a pithy, salient, worthwhile comedic idea in decades, but the filmgoing folks are devouring his pablum like caviar. Cate Blanchett was impressive but…

No, no, I empathize completely. I once went on a blind date with a girl who was friends with a coworker. I was not close friends with this coworker, who I'll call Lulu to protect her identity for reasons which will very soon be evident, but we had worked in the same office for a couple years and had hung out after…

Quiet, he's on a roll…

Are there any hobos anymore? There's homeless people and street people and desperate runaways and temporarily displaced refugees, but are there any actual hobos, with crumpled hats and cigar stumps and their few modest belongings bundled in a hankerchief at the end of a stick?

I got a Community alert for this?!

But even seemingly bland pasty dullards have a freaky sex monster dwelling deep inside, undetected, waiting to be unleashed, if only you'd make the effort. It's an inferior athlete who blames his or her equipment. My point is, didn't she ask you why you were naming state capitals during sex?

Ugly fuckers.

You won't believe why these 40 strangers undressed each other and got in bed.

I assume you're talking about the cast of Golden Girls.

Unless you've managed to find your way to the "inner" film partially concealed beneath its fiercely intimidating surface then you haven't really experienced INLAND EMPIRE as David Lynch has ingeniously contrived and intended. The impression created by the film's exterior appearance is one of intensely irrational…

Your taste in comedy films does not define you. It is not who you are. It's only a part of you, a small, nearly insignificant part of you. Don't sweat it, bra.

The ending of Adaption was a disappointig sellout letdown, but it was meant to be.