You know the worst, worst, worst thing about Nick? He’s okay. He’s okay. And I am… not okay. I’m not okay.
me on a first date
- Referring to any four-legged animal as a weird dog
- Massively underestimating the number of nearly uncountable objects
- Massively overestimating the number of clearly countable objects
- Bad puns in TV episode titles
Raise your hand if you have watched so much British television that is has actually changed your speech patterns.
I’ve not the slightest idea how you’ve come round to that idea.
Exactly. I haven’t the foggiest idea of how you’ve come to that conclusion.
What in the bloody hell are you blabbering on bout you twat?
Behold, people that have never been within 50 feet of anyone even remotely British.
Maude Apatow’s little half-smile is the exact reason I never agreed to do red carpet events with my parents.
Meanwhile, I am obsessed with Iris’s outfit, even though I don’t like visible zippers, shoes with laces, or when anyone else wears my signature color.
Watching this (and fearing broken ankles with each loop) I can’t helping thinking about that old quote Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, except backwards and in high heels.