o 2 in idea barrages

I figure since I’m the last human being alive that hasn’t been rumoured to play Doctor Doom, hey, might as well pretend I’m in the running too. DAMN. YOU. RICHARDS!!! How’s that?

For all the memery making Garfield creepy/demonic/Lovecraftian, you don’t see enough uses of the phrase “Garfield And Fiends”.

Never trust the word of a thong bikini, they’re often high on crack.

Be wary of what appears to be a delicious chocolate-chip oatmeal cookie. Always maintain a raisinable doubt.

The idiot from Maroon 5’s sex texts except he’s H.P. Lovecraft, proclaiming your body “non-Euclidean”.

Who you are without the explanations, gutless excuses, frippery and equivocations, that’s all anyone remembers about you, you might as well just blare that out true. It’s the real you to everyone other than yourself. That’s the story that might actually linger. That’s the flash.

Quentin Tarantino, in his bathroom, singing into a toothbrush “I’ve got TOES, I’ve got TOES, in different area CODES!”

I cannot to this day hear Ben Folds “Jackson Cannery” without reflexively assuming he put in a shoutout to secondary “Barney The Purple Dinosaur” character Baby-Bop. I know that’s not what he INTENDED, maybe it’s his accent, but that’s absolutely what he’s doing EMOTIONALLY.