Find Me On:
“I check the tags.” –You.
“I must rush to the comments section to declare its fakeness (and possible gayness)!” –Me.
I hate to be your favorite YouTube commenter, but NO WAY. Nope. Once she got to the part about putting them in baskets and on rainbows, I had to stop believing that an MBA grad from Villanova would understand so little about marketing.
I appreciate your comment and I also liked the movie. I wasn’t fishing for upvotes in my lame #dadjoke of a comment, but I also think that these threads–even before the voting system–was never a place for serious critical analysis. (Keep in mind this is coming from someone who comments once every couple months these days.) When it happens here, it happens organically. And commenting about the nature of the comments, even after just a dozen of them (before the thread is even warmed up), is actually counterproductive.
What I’m saying is, maybe you should have just posted your second comment and seen where it went before criticizing.
I ate a painting of dogs playing poker and immediately woofed it up.
Peter Gabriel’s “Sledgehammer” video would like to have ein Wort mit diesem Herr.
Rachel Getting Spay(rri)ed
I just can’t stop looking at my boyfriend’s face. It’s this perfect mix of Howard the Duck and Quato. Two of my favorite movie characters.
Yeah, he’s my boyfriend, but I defy anyone to resist a personals ad like this. (Scroll down.)
I keep waiting for something to happen. Something to pass in front of the window. Then I realize two things: nothing will. And I’m jealous of your window.
“But why would you when you can more easily masturbate?” asks the now-41-year-old candidate for the U.S. mutha(non)fuckin’ Senate.
Were her amigos the robbers or the other people in the store?
I’ll take my answer off the air.
I generally use Armor-all on my tires. But thanks for the offer!
This pair of comments is exactly why I like watching college basketball instead of the NBA. Playing as a team, setups, assists, rebounds. *Everyone* (get it) contributes.
Too right. If those are baggy mom jeans, I’ve got some serious wardrobe examination to do.
After that I can go nail down the melody to “Can I Borrow a Feeling?”
I read an interview today with the guy who played the chemist and he said two things about the top: 1) He clearly hears a wobble as the screen cuts to black. And 2) it’s less important what the top does than it is that Cobb walks away from it without registering what it does. It signifies that he’s free of the obsession.
“Not enough pretty girls.” –Steve Winwood
I’m pretty sure you don’t know what “contrived” means. It’s a movie about people entering each other’s dreams.
Damn it! Segel. Thanks for the correction, laughcamp.
Jason Segal as nerd-villain Vector was my favorite. And Gru’s little yellow Minions? Adorable!
Of course, I was pretty sure that the oldest orphan would try and make some iCarly joke in there somewhere. And then she didn’t! Kuhdooz, director of that movie!
No pitchforks this year? Damn. They best be sprayin’ viruses from out them muthafuckin’ helicopters. That’s all I’m sayin’.
RIP, ASS DAN.
Well, that’s great. I’m still waiting on An American Patriot’s Sgt. Pepper’s version.
I printed it out like the fifty-six-year-old dad that I am. That helped.
As for the mish-mash, I think it’s a tough story to tell. Jones makes a choice in the frame to believe the Kniesses’ story that they didn’t cheat, but then still has to present the evidence of Ted the Guy in the Audience. I like the frame because I’m more interested in Terry Kniess than I am in just what happened on TPIR that day.
You should read the whole thing.