No. Because THEY’RE ALL IN ON IT!

Opportunity missed: the bare bones premise of Punky Brewster is SUPER gritty: small child is abandoned by mother in grocery store. Elderly “bachelor” who is a photographer, swiftly moves to adopt her as his own. Bachelor encourages her to bring her orphan friends over to his place, one of whom is a barely supervised…

I really hope that this oral history left *no* *stone* *unturned* because I need total coverage of Rob Thomas’s creative process.

I thought Kathy was making ramen. For some reason I saw noodles.

Gross.

No, he’s super extra, so he hung out with the dragon for like an hour before the dragon got uncomfortable and dipped out. Danny didn’t notice and got a tattoo for their imagined friendship because he’s an ultra, mega nerd.

Have I told you about my IRON FIST? Because I’m the Immortal Iron Fist, you know. You heard that right, I’m the Iron Fist (the Immortal one), also, I’m Protector of K’un Lun, and Sworn Enemy of the Hand.

I thought it was ramen.

What is that? Ramen?

Wildly successful, decidedly mediocre performer secures wildly successful, decidedly mediocre performer for thing to later humble brag about to two wildly successful, decidedly mediocre performers.

Don’t do that lol just have an Impossible Burger.

Yeah, it’s biologically anomalous that you didn’t get sick, to the point of improbability. The endocrine system is not magic; if you don’t eat a type of food, your body is programmed not to produce the requisite enzyme for digestion.

Plant meat manufacturers can’t really win; soy, gluten, coconut, cashew, even pea all have vocal allergy sufferers. Coconut is the plant fat source closest to animal fat, that doesn’t require a rainforest to be murdered for farming.

The skin is an alginate, good for fats leaking on the pan, but they struggle to maintain integrity. And you can’t make beer brats, as the simmering beer cooks the skin right off. But I love these sausages anyway.

You did it wrong.

Bub, we ALL need that. I’m going to go watch some right now

Twitter deserves to be kicked off the planet. Easier fix.

Where I get all my news and info: Waffle House placemats, and men’s room walls.

I don’t give a shit about any of these people, but you know that Trump is one of the biggest-scale con artists publicly operating, right?

It’s about Dave Pirner’s hair in the 90s. I would write sad songs about that too.