If you aren't watching Arrested Development by now... if all of your friends' rants and raves have had no effect... if you somehow missed David Cross making out with the Fonz (in full Blue Man Group make-up) last night... perhaps there's just no hope for you.
And that makes me sad. Come on... this is why God invented Netflix (and ImOscar.com)!
The season premiere was so laugh-out-loud great... just the best show on TV.
This is not up for debate.
So God woke me up last night (that's two references to God in one post... have I gone born-again?), well after midnight, to let me know that all was right with the world.
That everything was going to be OK.
That evil deeds do not go unpunished.
The f'n Cowboys got their asses handed to them, in satisfyingly painful style.
I had fallen asleep (like everyone else on the East Coast) at some point during the Skins-Cowboys game... but somehow woke up to see the final few minutes of the Skins' big win.
Now, understand-- I never root for Washington... but I would sell my soul to see the Cowboys lose.
So congratulations, Joe Gibbs, on winning your own private Super Bowl. Now get back to sucking, would you?
Remember-- you coach a horrible, dreadful team. Enjoy this while you can.
Today is my once-a-month day to wear glasses. Not pleased with this at all.
Paul McCartney fell down a hole. There are about 324 Beatles lyrics to reference, here... so I'll let you make your own joke.