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You used to be able to go online and say "I don't like spaghetti" and move on with your day. Now you get to be lectured by some 15 year old coal miner in Istanbul why you're an idiot for not liking spaghetti

Palm Sunday mass is like Bat Day at the ballpark. You get something cool that you can hit your brother with.

[Hatfield family meeting] Any old feuds? Any new feuds that aren't a rehash of an old feud?

If you want to know about taxes, you ask an accountant. If you want to know about werewolves, you ask me.

Up to this point, I never talked trash about other countries because there's so much wrong with them I thought everybody already knew.

I hate it when people let their dog’s off-lease. If the dog signed a rental agreement they should be held financially responsible each month.

Thanks to the internet I see dozens of stories every day for things I do not care about.

If she has Bjorn Kjellstrom's "Be Expert With Map & Compass" on her bookshelf she'll do that thing you like.

It sounds very familiar.

Robert Heinlein imagined The Crazy Years as a period of rapid technological advancement combined with a, "gradual deterioration of mores, orientation, and social institutions,". It was often portrayed as a time of social, political, and technical chaos leading to mass psychoses.

I don’t want a standing desk — I want a sitting fridge.

Take it easy Mad Max the light is red for everyone

agent: the movie is called rounders & you’ll be playing a russian mobster. john malkovich: very well, i’ll be using my moon accent for this role.

So sick of these whiny, entitled kids these days. Adults know best! If we ask you to fight amongst each other like gladiators, or throw you up against a psychotic half face wizard when you're nine, or ask you to run giant, shifting mazes, then it's for your own good!

Burger King: original chicken sandwich prepared tableside like bananas foster. How much?

A horror movie where a server keeps appearing out of nowhere to ask if you're doing ok.

It doesn't seem like actors have ridiculous hair anymore.

A scheduled loss of contact, you ghoul, as you well know. Not even remotely humorous, considering how dangerous this mission is. But maybe I'm wrong. Why don't you tell that "joke" to their families and see if it gets a hearty guffaw?

And with the passage of Easter we now enter into what I call "Candy Winter" which will not be over until Halloween candy makes its appearance in September.

I believe I can fly. I believe I can touch the sky. I think about it every time the elevator shakes.