If you’re coming on Takeout, a light conversation about food, to insult people for no reason, you’re failing at life, miserably.
It ain’t hard to spot ‘em.
WTF? I’m joking around and out come insults?! Fuck off, por favor.
Right?! This was 25 years ago so, you know, an old VHS episode... The mom-unit didn’t turn him in, he just knew she’d tell us (did) and it might unravel from there (boy howdy) so he tried to pre-empt it.
Either way... MAGA hat.
Also not pictured: Virtually everyone, answering, “like a tiny nub.”
I may be a decade older still (mid-Xer); You soooo missed the triumph of scumminess that was the 80's Town Car. The “family”-run car service and peep-show-ridden Time Square went together like filthy peanut butter and mystery jelly on rye.
White Town Car and a white fat lady who sings. Now that is brand synergy.
Maybe he can be weaned off the junk with shitty Fords?
I hear busted knuckles and tetanus is the new missing teeth and scabs.
Yup, IMHO. There’s been a lot of talk about Hamilton going to Ferrari soon too. Since both of their contracts are up after next season and with Toto Wolfe is rumored to be leaving as well, it’s a solid bet.
So right. The headline really should be, “The Facelifted 2021 Jaguar F-Type Got A Whole Lot Meaner More Clichéd.”
Touché, though the cameras don’t dissuade them from lying so much as encourage it.
My shoe is hereby lobbed in your general direction...
Can you think of another profession where those attracted to it are so colossally untrustworthy and so known for dishonesty, we have to put fucking cameras on them just to ensure they’re doing their job and not lying about it?
“I was afraid for my life” supersedes all, including one’s life.
Yup, this happened to my dad — He was having a romantic dinner with a blonde who wasn’t my step-mom (hey b***h!), when his ex-wife (hi Mom!) was seated a couple tables over. He made up some eye-roller about a business dinner and, having been busted, doubled-down on it with his wife later... The ensuing Thanksgiving…
NO BURRITOS?! (And don’t call it a ‘wrap’ or I’ll throw a damn zapato.)