They read Deckard's surprisingly dull blog (he just writes about his dreams and various noodle stalls).

Come to think of it, I've never seen Rabin and a squirrel in the same room…

What the fuck kind of name is Pamelak?

I'm a 19th century Prussian aristocrat. Draw your own conclusions.

I've just put the kettle on. We're all going to have tea!

"Do you guys smell that too? Do I need changing again?"

Which is weird, because I've met some pretty racist puppies, but I still prefer puppies to children.

Some of us were already in the midst of a decades-long depression, but that sure as shit didn't help.

It's genuine snarkistry.

Or just automatically reroutes it to the sender's mother so she can have a long talk with him.

But all my comments are flirtation or an attempt at seduction!

Holiday Inn Express, tops.

I don't even bother with the jerking off anymore. It's straight to the crying for ol' Wolfgang!

Needs more holes in his head.

"Augh! Ough!"

Yes and no, respectively.

At least they won't have to drop the apostrophe to get around Quebec language laws.

It's a cruller world these days. We need to embrace the Dunk.

My early years on the stage have definitely helped me when im trying to get the good stuff from the doctor. An actor of his calibre almost certainly got as much tapioca as he goddamn wanted.

*tosses stahlhelm in the air*