In the type of story that always seems to surface on Sunday mornings when you least expect it, Phillip Seymour Hoffman has been found dead in his NYC apartment. Deadline…
Stars, they’re just like us.
Let’s hope they snap his neck.
When you find something this good, you don’t let it slip.
He’s the only person that puts Rob Schneider in TV shows anymore.
You’re on notice, ghosts.
This makes three.
Does Jay-Z really need another award nomination?
“We’re talking wieners.”
Minus the zombies.
I’m not taking this pill.
Your boycott when they raised their fees? It did nothing.
Leaning more cool than rude.
I didn’t opt for a winking ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’ narrative for this piece.
The auteur flexes his nuts at the studio.
A plus sign means you’re pregnant. A minus means you’re not. And an occult symbol means your dead twin is secretly gazing at you through an oculus torn into the fabric of reality.
There are some films that are simply above criticism.
It’s good for small dogs. It’s GREAT for small dogs.
This show keeps getting weirder/better.
The defenders of the Grammys were too busy breathing through their mouths to defend the Grammys.
Let it go! LET IT GOOOOO!!!!
That’s a big robot.
Find out in this new sneak peek.
It’s the only explanation.
Time to get the nerds back on board.
Get on it, Nintendo!
Labored, painful exchanges don’t make for loyal viewers, apparently.
We occasionally break theme to report stories that reflect poorly on people we don’t care for. JOURNALISM.