Yes, yes. All well and good. But where are we on flying cars?

Because that’s how things are prototyped.

It’s Electric! Boogie woogie, woogie!

The fleeting and shallow affections of a toothless, geriatric stripper.

Poo on my hands. 

His name is Robert Paulson.

And for the love of god, disable the wake sound for Alexa!

How well did anyone expect that to work out given the extensive facial tattoos?

The mnemonic isn’t as useful for the order in that regard, owing to the identical first syllables of “trapezoid” and “trapezium.”

I remember bones of the wrist (Scaphoid, Lunate, Triquetrum, Pisiform, Trapezoid, Trapezium, Capitate, Hamate), with “Some Lover’s Try Positions That They Can’t Handle.” 

I don’t applaud a cab driver when I arrive at my destination, so I’m not going to applaud this supposed “captain” for doing his job either. 

Yes, I generally practice this, but most idiots in my building just throw the whole greasy box in, soiling other paper as well.

I’ve never seen a strip mall imaging center that had anything but an open MRI. This is largely due to the significant shielding required for even a 1.5T magnet. I can think of a few high-quality independent imaging centers in major metro areas, but have been greatly disappointed in my dealings with independent centers…

Yeah, stay the hell away from strip mall MRI clinics. And open MRI. They’re bad at most things.

And greasy pizza boxes are not recyclable, MOFOs!

So being induced early so you can steal it back isn’t the right answer?

I’m fairly certain I have also heard people on the tube talking about her face. 

I did redecorate with garlic cloves. Though I’m not a first cousin, so he probably isn’t interested. 

What?! No “synergy”? “Paradigm”?