There once was an idiot from Limerick,

Get well Drew.

“This is some pretty heavy stuff.”

Also

RIght after he ruined his brakes by not knowing how to operate such truck safely on public roads

Season 8, Episode 3: “Can’t See Shit” dir. Miguel Sapochnik

Haven’t blacksmits been the subject of a number of of Harlequin Smut novels?

Tesla is ahead of schedule.  They weren’t expecting to blow up in China for a couple more years.

There were a lot of nicely-written character interactions here, on the whole. Brienne being knighted was a real high point for the character.

The ending with Jon and Danny felt incredibly contrived. It struck me as similar to “24,” where they would need something big to happen at the end of an episode whether or not it made sense to the narrative.

Subject (and strange choice of target for scorn) aside, this isn’t even an article. There’s no through line, no theory, no point you ever get to. It’s just a collection of quotes from people with no underlying theme to hold it together. What was your conclusion after listening to all these interviews and podcasts?…

My theory: Jon decides not to tell anyone about his parentage because he doesn’t want the throne, but Sam speaks out about it and tells everyone because he doesn’t want Dany as queen. Dany has Sam executed for treason, which puts a strain on her and Jon’s relationship.

I really hope they keep leaning into everybody just being weirded the fuck out by Bran. Dragons flying around and zombies on the march and nothing makes people more uncomfortable than the home schooled kid who cuts his own hair.

I remember those days, when my wife would get clogged milk ducks.  I’d make some hot compresses, and I’d have to chase the little bastards around the living room, finally pinning them down and trying to hold the warm wash cloths and hot water bottles onto the squirmy, squishy little guys. Then after a few minutes, my…

They could probably do the climate control with some sort of knob or slider I bet

more like kit lackofharington, amirite?

I can’t help but agree with your sentiment. I can still remember when Harleys were the bailiwick of burly, windblown vagabonds. They’d ride all day, then drink and shoot pool all night before following the tumbleweeds to the next town. My grade-school classmates had a massive reverence for the brand back then. I think…