Well, this wasn’t the plan at all.
Tim McGee is pretty much the only guy in the history of anything to be held captive and tortured by a drug lord for three months and come home having gained weight instead of losing it. And dear Lord who told him that facial hair was a good idea?
Also somebody tell Gibbs to cut his hair.
Also somebody bring back Tony and Ziva and get rid of Bishop and that British GQ guy, and Fez and that doctor chick from ER, and make NCIS great again.
I don’t know. It’s hard to say goodbye to the devil you know.
Bullets, bacon, and booze. A lot of booze.
I feel like he tried too hard not to care and incorporate the “I don’t care” ethos into the very turns of phrase he chose to slap this together. I feel like he pieced this whole thing together out of several first drafts and didn’t care so much that he just left it that way. It’s not that I disagree with what he’s saying, it’s that he could have said it so much better. And I love John Hughes’ films. And I don’t think Cohen really ever got to why.
I wouldn’t want to take a class with you.
Um. It’s a Pink Floyd cover. You’re not breaking any ground here. I could have done without the breastfeeding the politician visual, thanks.
Hard not to feel like a giant loser.
It’s not like
I don’t even know what to say.
I would not mind going to see Dwight Yoakam at all.
I’m really excited about a two day work week next week. And a three day work week the week after.
Turn the space heater on, get too warm. Turn the space heater off, get too cold.
This week sucks.
Let’s just go ahead and top today off with the dentist, shall we?
Yeah, I just can’t with you.
Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade my kids for anything, but if I had to be around them 24/7, I might end up institutionalized one way or another.
OK, probably not. And I’d still trade just about anything to be able to stay home instead of working.
Time for some unfrozen lunch I guess.
I don’t understand how I got on that mailing list.
I think he should rethink his pants.
It’s not like anyone listens to me.
I’ll end up being the mysteriousish old lady that runs the office.
God, that’s depressing.
I think we might be a little disensomething or other right now.
I’m really not having a good week, chickens. I’m just not.
It’s a rebuttal. It’s not a rebuttal.
I give up.
On the plus, my mouth is pretty healthy.
I like babies. I’m not a monster.
That was a weird survey and I would like to know why my dentist wants to start offering Botox.
Maybe the press didn’t cover you because they don’t care. Maybe you’re not as big as you think you are. Maybe you aren’t as relevant as you think you are. Maybe your ego just needs to stop feeding itself quite so much. See above re Pink Floyd covers.
We still have those Jones Soda Thanksgiving sets, don’t we?
It’s not wolves.
I guess I was a little unclear.
OMFG I wish more celebrities would remain apolitical.
(Also, I’m pretty sure women everywhere are glad she ditched Tom Hiddleston, because women everywhere were not happy they were a thing to begin with.)
Look. I don’t know what it is about me that rubs people the wrong way. It’s just there. And I can’t change it.
And I just can’t summon the will to even care any more.
I think we should rent a dumpster.
Can someone come and install some bamboo flooring for me? I pay in baked goods, alcohol, and possibly handknits.
Sorry, she went to Costco.
I’ve still never set foot in a Costco. I am determined I never shall.
Why, yes. I should have the admin login.
I probably sealed my own tomb.
Why you so early, bus?
I probably do not need more Diet Dr. Pepper right now.
I am not the cream in your coffee.
It is still too early for Christmas music.
Dennis Quaid plays a very convincing drunk. Is he just drunk all the time in real life?
Well that ER chick is aging well. Weird that two ER chicks have shown up in shows I’m watching lately.
I just think someone should just pay me to sit at home and knit all day.
I’ve said that before.
I’m not sure what I’d use a branded packaging experience for, but thanks.
I think. But maybe no.
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