Corden’s got another role that capitaizes on the believability of his uncouth behavior. I saw him spit food out at another cat.

Disgusting unless you have no idea, in which case, no problem.

I’d sure love to hear the perspective of a few flight attendants on this matter.  They spend the work week in these environments.

Somebody put Striegel onto a tailor. Or something. Was he dressed by a machine?

We can hide those kids from your feed.

Adjectives like disgusting are meant to describe the the thing that disgusts, but they contain more information on the person being disgusted. This holds true as well for the adjective “boring.”

When I wear socks it is always out of consideration for the feelings of others.  Certain parts of me are hard to look at.

He has a web site and you can buy his work there. However that turns out for him I’m fine with that. I have that set up, too, and even after the harrowing news he’s way more popular than I’ll ever be.

Band members responsible for logistics have no such luxury.

Yes but has he banged complete strangers

The private vocabulary thing is learned from enjoined spouses. It works wonders to maintain unit cohesion. Others will have nothing to do with you.

Unless you can’t stop until they are all gone.

I bet that Jamie and Katie look like Ted Knight in Caddyshack in those hats. We may never know if free bowls of soup came with the deal. 

Same reason women are bitches. Hormones.

Alan Cumming as the desk clerk telling Tom Cruise what happened to his pianist friend is the best part of EWS. Homosexual panic!

Wasn’t she Nancy Botwin’s mammogram tech on Weeds?

“There’s trans actor on Grey’s this season, playing a trans man, which I think is awesome! I think it would also be awesome if that actor’s next role was just some dude, not a trans man.” Would I buy them as some dude? I have enough trouble buying trans men as just some dude at the Safeway.

Pepperoni slice.

We made our wedding so traditional all the Republicans on her side of the family were mystified from beginning to end. The vows were hundreds of years old and used English vocabulary most in attendance didn’t understand. Then we danced to songs by Mister Rogers.

You sound like a spurned suitor, not even hearing anything past the evidence that the artist doesn’t love you any more. The artist never loved you, but there was a commercial incentive to let you think otherwise. This is the quagmire presented by the one-sided empathy that feeds fandom.