I don’t like nice things but Brooklyn 99 is a delight. And if you disagree
This answer kills me. I’m Dianne here.
I’m the 36th person in line at the library to read Leah Remini’s Scientology book. They’ve ordered 25 copies and I’m praying the bitches ahead of me on the hold list will speed read that shit so I can have my turn asap.
- Xenu is feuding with Leah Remini or whatever.
After Poehler/Arnett, these two are all I have to believe in. Aside from my own marriage, I mean. Hold your shit together, Offerman/Mullally; the world needs you.
Man, idk. I took piano for six years, and was in jazz/marching band/whatever band for all of jr high and high school, and the last time I even tried to read music it was all ... wait, is that the G or the D? <counts upwards from where I’m pretty sure middle C is> IT IS SO SAD.
After adjusting the temperature of their water twice
“What’s homo milk? Is this milk from GAY COWS?!” he demands, utterly* seriously, even angrily.
The Reuben one reminded me of a story Terry Pratchett told. He said that one jet-lagged evening he accidently asked for Three Mile Island dressing for his salad. The waitress didn’t say a word, just brought him Thousand Island dressing and a bottle of hot sauce.
Welcome back to Behind Closed Ovens, where we take a look at the best and strangest stories from inside the food…
I love how tweet beat almost always features Dr. NDeGT’s tweets. He is on my dream team of the imaginary cabal I have constructed in my mind as the ruling body of these united states. Which would be in no particular order;
I still don’t know what a Calvin Harris is.
Bless you, Bobby Finger
