The best thing about a #SuperBowlLX rematch against the Patriots is that this time Darrell Bevell isn't our OC. #GoHawks

Twenty-seven words about muskets, with half-assed comma placement, is no way to regulate an armed society in the 21st century.

Jayhawks by 24, reasserting our dominance at Bramlage. #KUvsKSU #RockChalk

🧵Not quite 29 years ago, during the longest 90 seconds of my life, there was a span of 5-10 seconds when the young man holding the gun suddenly panicked and surged with adrenaline.

It shouldn't need to be said, but the instant an ICE agent disarmed Alex Pretti — who did not "brandish" his legally permitted firearm and was outnumbered 7 to 1 — that should have been the end of it. ICE could have cuffed and arrested him, and we'd still be outraged, but Alex would still be alive.

THE LIMEY Criterion could fill a disc with Soderbergh commentaries. The classic Soderbergh/Dobbs commentary. New audio of Steven commenting on the Dobbs commentary in real time. A new solo on the film. A cast-and-crew with with Luis, Lesley Ann, Amelia, Lachman, Flack, whoever’s still around.

Most businesses and public spaces nowadays are nonsmoking, which is great but also whatever, because today I passed a stocky, surly, unshaven man who, in open defiance of municipal ordinances and societal norms, was chewing on an inch-and-a-half of lit cigar stub like he escaped from a comic book.

Got any data on how many of them have been shot in the fucking face?

Reading a political article just now, my curiosity drove me to the Quinnipiac University athletics site to confirm that their teams' mascot is the bobcat. I will confess no small amount of disappointment that they aren't the Quinnipiac Fightin' Pollsters.

Watching #BAYvsKU with the sound muted because a) I can't deal with Gus Johnson's energy tonight and b) I can hear Marlowe dreaming in the chair she evicted me from. #RockChalk

Trump is a narcissistic sociopath indifferent to human suffering. He isn't privately worried about a fucking thing except where his next goddamn participation trophy is coming from.

Melanin is the new probable cause.

Notwithstanding that my alma mater lost three such games this season, I'm enjoying the hell out of these playoff games in which the last team that scores leaves too much time on the clock and risks a late rally and possible defeat.

This Google Gemini A.I. commercial just aired during football, and the thing about it that most pisses me off is that the music is lifted from Wes Anderson's FANTASTIC MR. FOX, a stop-motion animated film in which literally every individual frame is meticulously crafted by hand.

We can’t let the Riley Gaineses of the world win. Or even, you know, tie for fifth.

Mayor Frey’s profanity is the mildest possible official reaction to ICE’s obscenity.

They demand our silence because it breeds complacency. That’s the only way they can maintain authority without accountability. Better pat me down, Tom. I’m packing a lot of hateful rhetoric. Wouldn’t want it to go off in this crowd of masked goons with guns now, would we, you corrupt fascist fuck.

Two men robbed a friend and me at gunpoint as we sat in her car. She reached behind my seat to comply with their demand for her purse, agitating the gunman, whose sudden fear scared me more than the gun itself. We might have died in that instant, but he exhibited more restraint than Jonathan Ross.

Kristi Noem is a domestic terrorist. Tom Homan is a domestic terrorist. Greg Bovino is a domestic terrorist.

I just read a description of a house that included the phrase “and all the windows were blinded” — as in covered with blinds — which for the briefest moment sounded wrong enough for me to invent *blound* as the past tense of *to blind*, then just as quickly the moment passed. *Blinded* it is.

Look, I get that it's been a super hectic day, and he's probably had a ton of things on his mind — travel is stressful, man; I don't care who you are — but does Nicolás Maduro know that he can apparently buy a pardon from the President of the United States?

I haven’t seen BLUE MOON yet, and Ethan Hawke is a fantastic actor about whose performance I’ve read nothing but effusive praise, but every time I see this photo I imagine he’s doing one of those Tim Conway–as-Dorf bits.

In his first term Trump had James "Mad Dog" Mattis. In today's press briefing both Trump and Hegseth called out Gen. Dan Caine by his nickname, "Raizin" Caine. Because nothing puffs up these posturing dilettantes as much as associating with someone who sounds like a player they made up in an RPG.

You’ve got to feel a little sympathy for Hegseth and lowercase marco when you consider Trump will likely die soon and they’re gonna be standing in the dock at The Hague without the guy they sold their souls to.

I'm certainly no expert, but I've read my share of military history, and the thing to understand about an incursive operation of this scale is that Trump raped young girls on Jeffrey Epstein's island.

God, can you even imagine the bullet we dodged by not electing a woman?

lowercase marco would like us to know that CUBA “is run by incompetent, senile men.”

FIFA could have spared themselves a lot of embarrassment if they had just named it the FIFA Regime Change Prize in the first place.

“Marty’s movies aren’t violent until I edit them.” Happy birthday, Thelma.

The Costco Paradox: that thing when the slow-moving deer-in-headlights shopper frozen in the middle of the aisle looks at you like you’re the asshole for having a plan that involves momentum and forward progress.

What exactly is the pitch that results in former Alabama head coach Nick Saban being the commercial spokesperson for VRBO, Aflac and Home Depot? I'm imagining his agent telling advertising executives, "What if I told you I can get you a mirthless charisma sink who *isn't* Bill Belichick?"

247 is my number to beat in 2026.

8:11 a.m. There's a bird chirping outside my window that sounds like it's repeatedly saying, "Ricky Ricky Ricky Ricky." I hope it finds Ricky soon.

Victor Garber is the unsung hero of #SleeplessInSeattle. That is all. As you were. #TCMParty

2026, kids. Let’s do this. With any luck cirrhosis will get us before anything else can. Sláinte.

New Year’s Eve at Down-at-Heels: I need to pour another martini and put in another DVD, but I have a situation.

RETURN OF THE KING–ass denouement. But earned. #StrangerThings

Picture of the staff who operate my account:

Now playing: DOUBLE INDEMNITY (Wilder, 1944) A memento of the lone, contentious collaboration between two of my idols: a brief cameo by co-writer Raymond Chandler under the direction of Billy Wilder.

During a Q&A James Ellroy complimented my hair, digressing into a story about his bald father remarking upon JFK’s hair and noting that James would be bald too someday, not hirsute like the president. Later he inscribed my copy of WHITE JAZZ: “To Brent, What a fuckin’ head of hair James Ellroy”

I know we approach the coming new year with a sense of renewed hope and possibility, and I don’t mean to be a buzzkill, but nothing will change when the clock strikes midnight tonight. Things will change when he dies. A lot of things. And fast. Be ready for that. Have fun tonight, though. Be safe.

Universally revered nonagenarian writer-director-producer.

Back when I worked in synergy at a film studio, the director Jon Turteltaub and I arrived at a marketing meeting wearing the same dress shirt.

Ruin two bands by combining them: Mos Def Leppard

Give me a billion and I'll be delighted to practice positivity. Until then, kindly fuck off.

Her husband influenced me as a writer, but Mrs. Wilder influenced how we drink at Down-at-Heels. Our techniques vary — I’m typically pouring for one — but she’s the reason Ketel One and Noilly Prat are the mainstays of my bar.

"Purported" and "hidden" doing a lot of heavy lifting in that sentence.

Unelected billionaire ketamine addict who dismantled USAID suddenly concerned about people dying.

In the same way "woke" has been misappropriated and redefined by the right, we on the left need to ensure that the recently coined term "heritage American" is clearly and correctly defined not only as "whites descended from slave owners" but also "present-day whites who'd own slaves if they could."

Last week a woman approached one of my co-workers with no authority to speak of to alert *someone* that her attire that day precluded her from *conceal*-carrying the handgun she wore on her hip. I appreciated her sense of propriety but didn't feel any better knowing someone in the store was packing.