On one level, I’ve already grown accustomed to Donald Trump saying things that threatened the safety and health of my patients. I just never expected it to get this bad.
Donald Trump’s friends in the media claim allegations of spousal rape aren’t relevant. That’s baloney.
There is a show called “Sex Box.” Now you know.
We need to talk about Neil Patrick Harris
Russell laments the demise of The New Republic.
According to Slate, doctors everywhere use slang to dehumanize their most difficult patients. Russell begs to differ.
In which Russell wearily defends Rob Schneider’s right to say stupid things and still remain a working actor.
Acting awards shows + opportunity for ranting = Cloud Nine for Russell Saunders
It’s not that Rose and Russell are at a loss for words. Rather the opposite, really.
In which I discuss one of the very few topics about which my best friend and I disagree.
“You’re given the form, but you have to write the sonnet yourself. What you say is completely up to you.”
“This is the kind of arrant pedantry up with which I will not put,” said Winston Churchill. Except he probably never said it.
At long last, have you left no sense of decency, Mr. Wurzelbacher?
Her name was Lola. She was a showgirl.
I get a little bit meta this week. Also, cannibalism.
I think I may be a little bit in love with Emma Stone.
For crying out loud, Ace of Base had how many hits? Where is the justice, universe?!?
No, no. Please, alter this beloved foodstuff beyond recognition. I was only eating it for the flavor, after all.
Thank you, random stranger, for giving me something to ponder as I count down the miles on my way back home.
“Are you sure you don’t want to check it? Here, I’ve taken it out of my wallet already. Why don’t you just glance at it?”
“The Simple Life”? Nay, loving her was far too complicated.
Zesty lemon cookie buttons.
So it turns out that I have a perfectly good reason that I won’t be able to make Leaguefest this year. Or, more accurately, I have two of them.
Fred Phelps is dead.
Her name was “L’Wren Scott,” not “Mick Jagger’s girlfriend.”
Why show up at a party when everyone knows you weren’t invited?
You’re welcome to all the peaches you can eat, man. But please shut up about it.
More than a week in the woods.
Another year, another Oscars. Discuss.
At last the big night is finally upon us. Just like last year, I offered a set of predictions totally blind and without the benefit (such as it is) of having seen any of the nominated films and prior to any of the preceding predictor awards. Having now seen all of the latter (but still…
I probably couldn’t have afforded a Bellini, even if I’d thought to order one
I guarantee we were having more fun than anyone else in that restaurant.
“The Teapot Dome scandal is the same as all the rest,” mused the Dowager Countess. “Doubtless spoilers are involved.”
The video is also fantastic.
I’m glad you asked!
“What’s that weird ticking bracelet you’re wearing?”