Oh that Brent spiner, always on the lookout for nazis.

Rofl, Tony Blair.

I can understand pretty much everyone else except for perhaps a few, but seriously.

I don't know, seriously, there are a million ways somebody as close to her as "Brent Spiner" could make her life a living hell.

I think if they really wanted to, the people orchestrating this could've by now.

You used to have to pay admission to see this sort of sideshow, but it's just as exploitative and sad.

Her voice has an almost distant hue as she announces the names of celebrities on her marriage list. Not distant in the sense of simple unfamiliarity, but the tone that the mayor might have when calling out the names of the district winners of the 5th grade story contest.

I can almost see Keanu relieved and excited, shaking the hands of the other men whose names have not yet been called. While they all smile and give hearty slaps on the back to Keanu, they seethe with despair underneath the surface, as an unsightly new crack in their own self-image forms with every name called that is not theirs.

Hugh Jackman gives Keanu a warm wink and "welcome to the group" smile, as he struts up on stage to join Gabrielle's male harem. You've made it Keanu. You've finally made it.