She’s walkin’ on sunshine.
This is like seeing the Rolling Stones play a concert now. Like, it’s not the true “experience” you’re looking for, but you can still say you saw the Stones. I would fuck Vince Vaughn and then leave out the fact that it’s puffy modern-era Vince Vaughn and let people think that it’s.. yknow, Clay Pigeons era or…
Go home, NBC, you’re drunk.
He ejaculates mango salsa.
I wonder if this is the endgame of all these people who now no longer read anything more complex than young adult novels. Super-simplistic YA erotica.
Wow! She’s a better Janice Dickenson than Janice Dickenson.
This is how the spiral to the bottom continues- everything made to cater to whatever demo the number people says to, all songs calculated to mirror the last thing that made money in an attempt to make the x amount of money the money people said it would if these things were done. That’s how we get Transformers 4.
We need Olivia Pope!
Hail to the guardians of the watchtower of the East!
There was a hoarding show that did an episode in England but it was a mother and son living together who really liked collecting things. Like, figurines and stuff. Their house was packed but it was with these carefully organized groups of like, porcelain dolphins or arranged parasols. No sailcats or trash piles in…
I feel like NBC sitcoms are trapped in this universe where they just want so badly for it to be 1995 forever.
One of the things I kind of love about Mr. Wonderful, for him money is the great equalizer. He don’t curr what you are, he only cares that it makes money.
Like 10 years ago I did this, must’ve been before they had pasta because I only remember shakes and soups. Or maybe I didn’t shell out for pasta. Anyways, I lasted 2 weeks and one day, lost 13 pounds, then cried for about a day straight and ended up neck-deep in a pile of junk from Wienerschnitzel. I don’t even like…
Ads were so loquacious back then! Nowadays we’re all “Sweat bad!” “Extreme Armpits!” By the by, I adore this feature. No one can play Charades like my galpal Peggie Dow.
Yeah man, I have no probs with the minibar. My 6 dollar coke is still less than my husband’s desire to order milk and cookies from room service at any hotel we stay at.
I am way too pleased about this. This is a kind of perfect complement to reading Goop.
There’t a lot of improbability in this whole thing, but the most ridiculous bit is that anyone ever would pay the 200 bones they want for that goddamn lamp.
I think that’s the clearest answer to “who is excited at the prospect of Carly Fiorina being president?”- Jerks and Idiots.
The song is catchy enough (well, they were like “have BritBrit sing over Fancy, and Iggy do that thing she always does, it’ll be great”), but I’m here for Earth Girls are Easy. I loved that movie sooooo much, Julie Brown is my everything.