I'm confused. Who we hatin' now?

Where is Tom Green when we need him?

I'm just thinking that any artist who gets a call from their agent about "a sweet spot on the Gathering main stage lineup" should fire their agent.

Throwing a beer can is how they express their enjoyment!
It's poo and urine that signifies dissatisfaction, apparently.

mmmm… urinal cake

Peeps, even!
Even we Vulcans understand typos, bitches.

The force of one G standing up
equals 1/4 of his Hos getting down. This is basic post_Newtonian physics, pees.

Hey, just like most illegals…
He's just doing the jobs that no American wants to do.

I think the lesson here is to card anyone before they start fingering you.

I hate it when people are around in general. If fewer criminals were around people, fewer other people would become victims. More people in general might commit suicide, but technically that's only a sin, not a crime.

Mickey: Actually, North Georgia. But isn't it great how much the American underbelly has in common!

Yeah, remember when he told America "Let's all just get along!" after being brutally beaten by the cops? Good ol' Tom

Perhaps someone can infect them all with Legionnaire's Disease.

An average hero won't do. Dammit, get me…
a star of The Warriors and Xanadu!

Isn't it "Ho's up, clowns down?"

I assume that most Juggalos have a ready supply of rotten hot dogs and empty balloons stored in their parents' Rapture shelters. They're in the big freezer, along with the purple Faygo and last year's deer meat.

This is by far the best news I have heard all summer.
So many angles for a pop theorist to cover… all wrapped up in the stench of teen sullenness and feces-related violence. Just like the Three Stooges.

Typical Lucas…
Throw a few crumbs to the fanboys (Hey! Look! 15 seconds of Wookie Planet! A new fight with a fake Boba Fett! Dark Luke!) while, with the other hand, waving in forkliftloads of Muppet crap and fat-lipped alien toys.

How about "Street Sharks?"
Anyone miss them? Anyone?

What do you do when there is a spare You?
Easy. Primer gives the perfect directions. Just catch your other self and anesthetize them, forcibly, with an explanation that you're sorry things got so fucked up. Works for me every time!