Me, too. I swallowed it. It wasn’t good.
Me, too. I swallowed it. It wasn’t good.
Condolences, Tyler.
Fruit Brute
I remain amazed that people still pretend to believe “The India Song” isn’t great.
I thought I was the only one who was! But also: thank you.
First they came for the copyeditors.
May you live to be a thousand years old.
That makes two of us!
Fox of the century.
The L. Ron Hubbard of blurbists.
I never tire of it.
“That was liquid football!”
Dag.
The good old English language has sustained some heavy-ass blows in the past couple-few decades (not all unwarranted) but “died by suicide” is omnidirectionally poor.
The Tribute Band is the only acceptable name.
Some personal news: In lowering my head to take a bite of a very melty ice cream sandwich a few moments ago, I managed to smear ice cream all over the left lens of my glasses. I’m considering leaving there as a warning to all that it’s never too late to hit a new all-time low.
The art of conversation: Hang in there until someone uses the word “liminal,” then lift your index finger for a single beat, gather your belongings, and split in a hurry.
If you watch carefully, there’s some subtle religious imagery in there.
You'd have to go back to the glory of @hodgman's first three audiobooks to even APPROACH the indisputable brilliance of this singularly edifying masterpiece, created by Richard Ayoade and abetted by Noel Fielding, Christopher Morris, Sally Hawkins, Lydia Fox, Stephen Merchant, and David Mitchell.
It’s the one that has most recently made me have to pull the car over because I was suddenly, instantly sobbing.
For No One?
The troubled looking wide-eyed face with a tear trickling down and slightly crooked teeth image that accompanies Chris Morris' Blue Jam.
A quarter of a century after Warp released the sketch album, Darran Anderson looks back at the deep existential malignancy, and brilliance, of Blue Jam
An Unkind of Blue: Darran Anderson on #ChrisMorris’ #BlueJam
buff.ly/18Q44rc
I love them so.
An elderly German Shepherd-Akita mix dog half-smiles from a steel tub, half-covered in suds.
German Shepherd-Akita mix dog’s long tongue hangs out of her silly mouth while on the mobile pet groomer’s table.
A huge pile of brushed-off dog hair—some on the floor, some in a trash bag.
When the mobile dog groomer comes to town, even the best dogs are in huge trouble.
Also, “Even Lee Greenwood wouldn't sink that low.” -David Berman, letter to the editor of The Tennessean, June 28, 2002.
This is the George HW Bush saying the American family should be more like the Waltons than the Simpsons of the nobody watches the Simpsons or remembers the Waltons anymore era.
The moves in “Boom! There She Was” are pretty well fragmented, too.
In a sense, they all do.
No Blueshammer?