The busiest fighting week of the year is almost upon us. Across the world families will soon come together and rediscover the reasons they moved apart in the first place, arguments growing into fights, growing into turkey-scented orgies of ruptured feelings.
Merry Christmas everyone.
"You have a job but not a career, your pants don't fit, and I'm still not 100 percent convinced you're mine. Welcome home."Worst of all is the evaluation of anyone you happen to be bringing home with you, and how they might compare with the perfect shrew of a wife your perfect ass of a brother has.
Sister-In-Law: "Why did you get me a Tickle Me Elmo?" Chris: "Those things are impossible to get." Sister-In-Law: "I'll bet. But it's not a very good answer to my original question. Why?" Chris: "You don't have one. And I assumed you always wanted one." Sister-In-Law: "I didn't. Nobody wants one. That's why they stopped making them. That's why someone sold you this one. You did buy this right? You didn't steal it?" Chris: "No, I bought it. Not it specifically, but yes, it, amongst other things." Sister-In-Law: "You were auction hunting for Christmas presents again weren't you?" Chris: "Would you have preferred the old weight bench?" Sister-In-Law: "Oh gross. I think there's gum on this thing." Chris: "Let's hope so." Sister-In-Law: "Why would we hope there's gum on this thing?" Chris: "No we're hoping that it's
They don't make those egg containers any more, which means, logically, this Christmas you'll have to drink eggnog until you can see through walls.
Most rich kids just want to be pop stars.
How did these hyper-specific tropes spread so quickly?
The Hollywood rumor mill has been playing games with celebrity deaths for at least a century.
It's easy to work the system and win these awards even if you don't deserve them.