Publicity souls plate settlebat at Bodytelevision sellin of WhosEntree

Doing my taxes, browsing FAQs. These are apparently the top 4 for Indiana.

Johnny Five was an early prototype Cylon. A subsequent, more lifelike model went back in time to be in a movie with Jack Lemmon.

Use this app to make your girlfriend certain that she is dating a Sim!

'Tis Dadd

Closing credits from Quentin Dupieux’s “Wrong”

Everything – literally everything – in the Frankverse appears as if it might be possessed of intelligence. … Is the universe happy? Is it sad? Or does it just want to eat? … Frank has the ability to horrify precisely because we are all well trained to seek out the smiling face beaming at us from behind the cartoon universe and instead we’re confronted with a jelly-fish’s (what an unpleasant surprise!), and, also, those weird blobs, dots and squiggles we call a face? Well perhaps we’re really staring at random markings on some kind of carapace?

Jim Woodring’s FraAOOOOOOOOOIIIIink: Detourning the Dream Factory

Today I learned (via Wikipediathat Jim Woodring, hallucinatory artist of Frank fame, did storyboards for the cartoon series Rubik The Amazing Cube and Turbo Teen, both of which I was pretty sure I had hallucinated until recently.

“My bathroom, my bathroom, is a private kind of place/very special kind of place/the only place where I can stay making faces at my face.”
thenearsightedmonkey:

planetstreet:

Issue #1

Ben Nadler is killin’ us down here in the Near-Sighted Monkey Lounge. We love his comics so much.
thenearsightedmonkey:

planetstreet:

Issue #1

Ben Nadler is killin’ us down here in the Near-Sighted Monkey Lounge. We love his comics so much.

thenearsightedmonkey:

planetstreet:

Issue #1

Ben Nadler is killin’ us down here in the Near-Sighted Monkey Lounge. We love his comics so much.

nakaonwood:

For real tho, what is black twitter? Tim Barnes investigates for the Whiskey Journal

Just… you know.

Groucho remembered that he had seen the grave of his great grandmother when he had visited the graveyard [in Dornum, Germany] as a boy. But it was not there now. Finally, we went inside the church with the pastor. … There was no Minnie Schoenberg in the birth registry, no Schoenberg nor any other Jewish names … for the record, it was as if they had never existed. …

Groucho hired a limousine for the trip to East Berlin … The chauffeur’s only instruction was to drive us to the bunker where Hitler was said to have died, and where, they said, he was still buried. … Groucho climbed to the top, alone, stood for a moment, and then danced his eccentric, frenetic Charleston. It was not a casual gesture.

— Groucho Marx and family visit his ancestral town of Dornum and Berlin in 1958, as reported by Robert Dwan in As Long As They’re Laughing: Groucho Marx and You Bet Your Life.