One has to assume the thought process behind Baguette-me-nots, a Tumblr dedicated to replacing everyday objects with baguettes, went like this: “Hey I just thought of a funny pun: Baguette-me-nots.” “Haha, that’s good. We should turn that into Tumblr, and get our buddies to pose in the photos.” “Totally.” And thus, Baguette-me-nots.

The blog was created by Tim Bierbaum and John Milhiser of Serious Lunch, who got George Takei, Ellie Kemper, and Mathew Broderick, as well as other funny friends, to help them out. If you’ve ever wanted to see a baguette used as Wolverine’s claws, you’re in luck.

Shortly after last night’s nudity-filled episode of Game of Thrones, the New York Post reported that an unknown female cast member of the HBO series is “refusing to appear in any more nude scenes.”

“One of the girls in the show who got her [dress] off the most in the first couple of seasons now doesn’t at all,” Oona Chaplin, who plays Talisa Maegyr on the show, told reporters in London over the weekend.

“She said, ‘I want to be known for my acting not for my breasts.’”

Chaplin refused to say which actress it is. But fans have noted recently that Emilia Clarke, who plays the king’s daughter Daenerys Targaryen, is no longer doing topless scenes. (Via)

Except for, um, last night. So who’s left? *puts on thinking glasses, takes off pants* It’s obviously not either of the Stark girls, because ew, nor is it anyone who’s either never been topless onscreen or only recently joined the cast, like Brienne or the Queen of Thorns (she’s the Meredith Palmer of Westeros, but the editors never include that footage). The obvious choices: Daenerys, and she meant after the bathtub scene, or Shae (it would make sense). I’m still not discounting Lady Olenna, though. Get some red wine in her and the Redwynes come out.

That headline is not a threat. I repeat: NOT a threat. Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” has been banished to the nether regions of the Internet, after Rickrolling became one of the world’s most hated memes in the mid-2000s. But we’ve all had some time to cope, though, and as part of YouTube Comedy Week, Reggie Watts has graced us with a cover of the 1987 classic. It’s a perfect fit: Astley sounds like he should be a big black man with a giant afro.

Check out more YouTube Comedy Week videos here.

Beards are basically free marketing for flannel shirts and neck scarfs, so as long as you have a big ol’ bushy one, why not get paid? That’s the logic behind Beardvertising, a concept, Laughing Squid reports, “thought up by Lexington, Kentucky-based advertising agency Cornett-IMS allowing men with fuzzy beards to earn money by placing miniature billboard-like ads in them.” Business Insider adds:

Of SNL‘s 38 seasons, I’d wager that at least 30 of them fall somewhere between a B- and B+ on the ratings scale. The show’s never as bad we think it is in the moment, but it’s also never as good as we remember it being. Every season, you’re going to get a handful of great sketches that you’ll never forget, just as you’ll get a ton more terrible ones that you wish you could. This season was no different. You had your duds (boring Daniel Craig, nervous Jeremy Renner, too-soon Kristen Wiig), your instant classics (up-for-anything Louis C.K. and Melissa McCarthy), and then there’s everything else, from Seth MacFarlane’s unmemorable premiere to Ben Affleck’s celebratory finale.

Today, though, we’re not focusing on the B- and B+’s or the boring, dreary cold opens, of which there are many — after the jump are the 10 best and 5 worst sketches from SNL season 38. Please share your favorites, too.

What you see above is every teen’s worst nightmare: their Tumblr redesigned by Yahoo, with nary a NSFW GIF or NSFW selfie in sight. They’re even so worried that Tumblr CEO David Karp, who sold his microblogging platform to Yahoo for $1.1 billion, ended his press release about the acquisition with, “As always, everything that Tumblr is, we owe to this unbelievable community. We won’t let you down,” followed by a “f*ck yeah,” obviously.

How is the Tumblr community reacting? Let’s take a look. Prepare yourself for melodrama.

If you thought Miguel drop-kicking a fan was the best thing that happened at the Billboard Music Awards last night, well, you’re probably right. But this is pretty amazing, too: Justin Bieber was booed by his loyal-at-least-until-another-boy-who-looks-like-a-Canadian-lesbian-comes-along fanbase. Or in the immortal words of the sleep-deprived capuchin monkeys who work at TMZ:

“Second Sons” is an episode that works better as a part of a greater whole. I’ve long believed that the ideal way to watch Game of Thrones is in one marathon session, which takes away the fun of bitching about how BORING Theon is, but it makes everything seem more cohesive. “Second,” for instance, is yet another set piece mover, one that’s necessary for the final two episodes of the season, but for right now, feels slightly lackluster.

Outside of (you knew this was coming) watching Peter Dinklage get his Drunklage on, a scene that belongs in the Smithsonian and deserves EVERY Emmy. It’s not often that Game stays on a story for as long as it did his nuptials with Sansa, but when it does, it tends to make everything else going on around it feel less by comparison (hence the brilliance of never cutting away during the Blackwater Battle). There are check-ins on Arya and the Hound, Melisandre with Davos and Gendry, and Daenerys, but nothing can quite match up to Red Wine Wedding. Even Sam the Slayer’s origin story, which should have come weeks ago, was misplaced and as hurried as Sam running away from his cabin in the woods with Gilly and Not-Craster, leaving the Dragonglass behind.

Don Draper has gone insane, the entire Sterling Cooper Draper Last Name Last Name Another Last Name staff is on butt drugs, people are f*cking in the office, grandmas are robbing small children, and Pete’s off planning his next Prickish Pete Plan — and yet all I want to think about is Little Kenny Cosgrove’s dance.

Full Mad Men recap tomorrow, assuming Cajun can stop coughing, but until then, tap dance the night away…