I was sitting next to a child who provided running commentary through the whole movie. My favorites were when Prim’s cat hissed at Katniss (“That’s not what I thought Buttercup would look like!”) and when he called Peeta a stalker.

Last week RG wrote a totally amazing guest column in Entertainment Weekly where he defended all his worst jokes from last year’s Golden Globes. It involved two pages worth of lengthy explanations explaining how his lamest, laziest, most obvious “jokes” were actually scathing societal critiques that his detractors are too stupid to understand. Turns out his jokes about Robert Downey Jr. being a recovering addict and how the airbrush artist for the Sex and the City 2 poster should be up for a special effects award were, in fact, critiques of how we as a society are reluctant to have an honest dialogue about addiction and to promote movies with photographs of aging women, respectively.

Before I read that, I might have agreed with Gabe here that Ricky Gervais doesn’t understand the difference between “offensive” and “not even remotely funny.” But now I realize that the reason I don’t like Ricky Gervais is probably just a product of the way our society discriminates against fat people.

Thanks for clearing that up for me, Ricky Gervais, you big fat condescending fuck! The more you know.

Aw. Who’s a puppy? (For some reason, this is what I say to all dogs.)

Whew, I’m glad to hear that other people couldn’t understand what they were saying, either. I actually found it helpful (if frustrating) that most of the characters were one-dimensional because it helped me follow the plot. (Wow, that sentence just made me really sad for me!) Actually, I think that pilots, by their very nature, have to be more or less for dummies so you know what everyone’s about.

Of course, then Lester Freamon put on his Native American drag queen outfit and I was like, wait, I don’t know shit.

Yay for live band karaoke! I have witnessed it only once (backed by what I assume was a wedding band) at a pizza place here in Chicago. My friend sang Bon Jovi and it was wizard magic. I have this theory called the shame-loss phenomenon that dictates you lose your capacity for shame as you age. This theory (a) explains why I’m singing Rihanna into these comments right now like it’s my job, and (b) why I will probably front Mr. Leo’s live karaoke band in just about, oh, one year (generous).

“Let Us Play With Your Look” feels like watching a game show in another language. Spanish, maybe, or Japanese.

I don’t know what’s more upsetting: this video or the monsters who can’t see why this poor man’s Jeremy Piven is a homophobe. You know what you can do when someone creepy makes an unwanted advance? ASK HIM TO STOP. I do it all the time.

Not only is Joe Rogan a homophobe, he is a hypocrite. It’s pretty clear to me that he wants everyone to stare at his dick.

Weezer is working around the clock to make sure their branded Necky is ready by 2012.

Ben Gibbard’s agent probably has a call in to ShamWow.

Colonel Douche, in the collage, with the (co)ca(i)ne

I love that you have become the unlikely defender of the most troubled deviants on youtube. Whether you?re affirming this sad bastard for being a Pokemon champion, that Sailor Moon dancing guy for living his dream, or poor old Carrot Top for?whatever he has done to himself, it always seems sort of sweet that you can find something nice to say about the bungled and botched.

On the other hand, the whole point of watching deviants on youtube is so you can feel better about yourself. Worried for the world, maybe, but better about yourself.

A prostitution whore, even!

I just assumed that *anyone* who vacations in Las Vegas is an asshole, so this strikes me as an excellent marketing ploy.