CNN hired Don Lemon and, somehow, that hack still has a job.
CNN hired Don Lemon and, somehow, that hack still has a job.
A stern British accent immediately gives things credibility.
Shhh. It's ok. No one really understands.
I am not famous anymore.
I agree. By no means do I wish to discredit the guy. It's not because he's a man, but because he's Shia LaBeouf.
The rape allegation isn't what's shocking, but Shia's incredibly odd behavior makes this story seem ill-timed. For his own mental health, I hope he's getting the support he needs to help him through the situation.
It's sad that I have to rely on watching the Dolphins and the Jets as my best form of entertainment tonight. That said, I'm betting on the Dolphins winning by 20 points, at least.
Terrible news but at least he isn't suffering is no more. I'll drink a stiff glass of bourbon tonight in his honor. Cheers, my friend.
I spit out perfectly good tea because of this comment.
Does Squatty Potty have an electric bidet like the toilets in Japan?
Be as calm as possible. Once they start openly spewing their racist nonsense, make it a point to never acknowledge anything they say directly. Instead, calmly, and casually, mention topics you know will infuriate them. When they try to rope you into a debate about it, move on to the next topic. Have about three and…
What a nice message. Cheers to the writers and to the best comment section on the internet.
[Kevin Smith threatens to retire]
My grandmother still has this on record. Even though I didn't grow up in the 70s, I grew up hearing this song on a fairly regular basis. It will always be a sentimental favorite of mine.
*clears throat
Right, right. Particularly, luxury rap has always been embellished. These rappers that are amassing wealth at such a ridiculous rate shout out drug lords, CEOs, and world leaders the same way dudes in the 90s were obsessed with Scarface. For better or worse, it's evolving.
Grumble, grumble, Obama, grumble, grumble, latte-salute.
Ha. I was thinking more along the lines of giving a lot of money to a strange company (with a familiar logo), so they can find a bank who is willing to lend me the rest of the money for the vehicle, assuming three arbitrary digits are to their satisfaction.
Who cares? Does it get me drunk when I don't want to feel feelings anymore?
If I were smart enough to do this, I'd be all over it. BMW M4s for everyone. Oprah would be proud.