"Mickey Rourke has sex with her. With fruit."

I can't top that.

When Matt's cursor takes an off-screen leap, he's gotta get clicking before it takes a licking. But watch your back, 'cause there's a seriously scrolled-off mouse in da house.

Sometimes a checking account is just a checking account. Sometimes a checking account is a proxy by which a couple can semi-safely argue about their comically dysfunctional romatic relationship. Usually, though, it's just a checking account.

Infanticide may *seem* like a really fun afternoon's pastime and all, but it tends to lead to awkward questions, so you probably shouldn't do it. Probably.

Instead, consider sending one of Big Flux's painfully verité e-cards. Kill time. Not, you know, babies.

Ah, the interweb. It brings us laughter and joy and sketch comedy and special chat places where people who enjoy collecting plush unicorns and antique baked bean tins can virtually gather for one-handed typing and companionship. But do you know what it can't bring? Your friend's penis back after it's been lopped off and festively gift-wrapped.


Thanks, Al Gore. Thanks a lot for the super-duper invention.

At last, a Clinton scandal that *doesn't* involve bodily fluids or real estate ventures.

Yeah baby - churn it. Churn it like you're on Rumspringa! Now lemme see you loosen one of those bonnet strings. Oooh yeah...now slide your hand into that muslin apron pocket reeeaaaallll slow-like. Oh yeah - now shun me. Shun me like I'm wearing primary colors in church...

The Math Bros. are out trolling the streets of Columbia U. in search of some red-hot long-form action, but will their numbers prove too large for some foxy tax tarts to crunch?

Kevin's tapping into his inner Sherlock Holmes to solve the mystery of Bobby J's missing keys. No word on how deeply he's willing to probe for an answer.

"Hey, mind if I borrow your Hey Soul Classics?"

"No, my brother- you've got to get your own."

Seriously. I mean it. Reach one inch closer, and you draw back a stump.

Heir-head Paris Hilton and diminutive Xenu zealot Tom Cruise scare up quite a scene on the silver screen in B-movie trailers "It Came With No Talent" and "The Wolf-boy!". Or am I just projecting?