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She opens every show with a duet of “What I Did for Love,” but invariably has her singing partner dragged off the stage by goons for attempting to upstage her.
Ain’t no holiday weekend like a New Yorker podcast holiday weekend.
There is no way that’s his actual office; in fact I’m pretty sure that’s Tess McGill’s office. His office has got to look way more, I don’t know, like Vatican City humped the lobby of a Marriott.
I loved when Varys correctly pronounced the name of the Maester who wrote the book Tyrion was reading (only to dismiss him as a bad writer); it worked as kind of a meta-joke about the ridiculous names in the series while neatly encapsulating Varys’s character.
Also, how many times do you think Varys had to send that Kimono back to his tailor with the instructions to make the sleeves bigger? A lot of times, I’m thinking.
The man who previously held the office, The Right Honorable Joey Bag o’ Pretzels, called for a federal constitutional amendment banning gay marriage during the State of the Union. I remember because, at a time when I didn’t think I could feel worse about myself, there was the President of the United States, shitting on me through a cathode ray tube. Now it is the future, and the President of the United States is e-affirming my iDignity via hover flatscreen. Dismissing the enormous progress that Obama’s statement represents as a mere “net positive” is unfathomable to me.
My mother has been playing this game for YEARS: “What’s the movie about the boy who hears things?”
It’s never occurred to me before, but now I’m terrified that there will be no gelato in hell. I mean, how could there be?
I’ve got a lot of thinking to do, I guess.