Well, today was fun! Two out-and-out rants rallying against The Insider Trading Man and The Angry Woah-Man Woman. Issues of time and space, raingry rain, issues underground. Why so serious? Here's your SNL open thread.

Sometimes, Saturday's Like This One happen, and since it rained all day and all night last night and cats were screaming at me for the last twelve hours, I'm not entirely sure what, exactly, the hell happened, suffice to say that the results (a very, very long lull in posting) were both unexpected and as mildly unpleasant for me as they were for you. I can assure you that we'll do our best to make sure it doesn't happen again, as our Weekend Labs physicians figure out exactly which chemical imbalance rendered me unconscious for four hours this afternoon. Also, I might have the Swine Flu, but if that actually happens, let me assure you that I will not be abandoning my post. The Great Swine Flu Weekend Blogging Experiment will be a contribution the likes of science haven't seen since that guy who fucked the monkey that gave everyone AIDS came out, except this time, I'm going to infect you all with partially braindead ruminations on the Sunday Styles naming the South Bronx the new Berkshires and the new holiday Sunday Styles writers have invented for you to celebrate there and only there.

Anyway! Enjoy Saturday Night Live tonight, maybe we'll bring back SNL Digest tomorrow, who knows. We'll definitely be talking about Hugh Hefner's shriveled penis and revisiting the topic of Old People Doing It as well. Tomorrow's Altarcations will be an epic blast, because Phyllis Nefler is the best bloggette ev-ah, and oh yeah: did you get invited to Jared and Ivanka's wedding? If you or someone you know did, you should tell them to send us pictures of her under the chuppah. If we'll pay for Balloon Boy, there's gotta be some scratch lying around for that kind of thing.

Finally, here's the jam to take you out tonight. Just because. Saturdays like these! They happen.