It's one of those moments where at the time, you feel like a big dumb asshole, but afterwards, I was like, "oh thank god."

"And next to those footprints, were the tracks of a rascal scooter."

Ah, the Ned Flanders Effect.

Not a Juggalette, but I've heard some pretty compelling arguments from women who are fans of rap music (of color or white) who are also feminists who recognize the objectification but find different angles to enjoy it from than simply Male Sexual Fantasizing.

I've been to the Pitchfork fest a handful of times, and I always had nice experiences with strangers. Long, friendly chats, openness with drugs/water/food, little headbutting.

The handful I've been to have been too orderly and with too much security to approach what I've heard of the Gathering.

Bottles and cans? They should be so lucky. I heard feces in bags for Tila Tequila!

I did this once, but she found it endearing when I yelped at the burn of bacon grease on my stomach as I sadly moaned "this was more charming in the movies!"

BUT WITH THE HOLY TRINITY THAT MAKES 5 FUCKFACE

Or, the ones they post and receive the most prominence are attractive.

That's kind of part of its procedural roots, which was probably how Fuller sold the first season to the network. It's kind of like asking why the people in House aren't constantly looking for a different doctor who gets good results and is less of an unprofessional asshole while doing it.

I picture Will walking into the room, pretending he walked into the wrong building, and both of them just awkwardly saying hi and "howya been?" before Will starts showing him pictures of his wife & kid and telling him he's been "so, so happy."

I think it means more that he's of the "yoga/corebuilding" persuasion than a mass-building bulky guy.

I'd love for him to be this series' version of Herr Starr.

The image of a mental patient slashing himself, screaming, on that bloody mattress terrorized the shit out of 15 year old me. That's about all I remember from that.

That's the problem. If you click to complain, you still clicked. They don't care as long as you click.

Fred Rogers consoled himself with all the occult rites he performed in his dressing room. He would never harm or besmirch the name of a cast or crew member - but a goat, on the other hand…

That's the problem with Alfa Romeos. Once you start talking about them, it seems kind of trite to talk about anything else.

I'm mostly comparing early Sin City and Batman Year One with his post 9/11 work.

Frank Miller really does come across as a 13 year old boy, locked in his room by his own shyness (and the rejection that comes with teenage years), and so begins to see the world at a dutch angle. Violence isn't something that destroys lives - it fixes problems. Women aren't capable agents of their own fate - they're…