That argument, apparently, does not work, and boosted Chick[en] Fillet’s national profile, while turning eating Chick[en] Fillet into a happily symbolic act of defiance for conservatives.
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Well, the chances of a Republican Senate doing any of those is slightly higher than the chances of liberals moving en masse to rural states like Wyoming or Kentucky in the next 1.5 years to turn them blue.
I mean, the chemical was isolated from actual bananas before we learned how to synthesize it, but it has many uses!
Who the fuck cares about polls?
That’s how career politicians who are Democrats say, “For fuck’s sake.”
It’s possible. But I also happen to know that a lot of banana flavor is just diluted pear flavor. Same chemical, different amounts.
Why not?
That’s what I was talking about. Especially that set he did a few months ago where he told a bunch of shitty jokes about women and shooting victims that got boos (obviously), and then lashed out at the audience.
Human beings are more complicated than that. It’s entirely possible for a person to be a talented performer, mentally ill, a devoted father, divorced, and a pervert at exactly the same time.
You must take a moment to appreciate the gestalt of the bowl. Observe the oil glistening on the top of the broth, like jewels. Allow your eyes to rest on the meat, before moving it to the side, with an expression that says, “I will be meeting you later.”
This sounds like a Chris Ware story.
I just really, REALLY wish CK could get his shit together. Get some medication, see a therapist, go to some meetings, and figure out a way to reconcile the awful things he did and how he buried them to protect his own career.
A good director can create a wow effect out of cardboard and string. There were a hundred different little things that went into making the first MIB charming as hell and the sequels no so much. Like:
There are kids reading this who weren’t born when Firefly first aired.
Wondering what McDonald’s is going to do with this random collection of foreign currency?
The next time a jogger is raped in Central Park, I think we can all agree, without any evidence, who the guilty party is:
Do you have a line in the sand?
No, I want to see where this goes. Everyone continue arguing about hash browns.