I got busy. I wrote a book. I started my podcast. I drove my kids to their dance lessons.
It comes as no surprise that most women are not bombshells.
You and Evan at the beach! You and Evan at the movies! You and Evan taking ballroom dancing classes! (Which I also asked you to do when we were together, but whatever.)
As long as he keeps his mouth shut, Archer could get it.
Projecting John, Paul, George, and Ringo onto the members of other famous quartets is just the kind of useless minutia I can’t help but spend hours contemplating; in fact, the margins of my high school and college notebooks were already filled with like-minded endeavors (you know, which members of the Full House family correspond with which members of the Wu-Tang Clan… the usual).
Tom and Jerry: …What a great show! I guess that Tom was trying to eat Jerry, but in my mind, they just really really hated one another. In fact, I always assumed some sort of backstory where Tom’s brother had killed Jerry’s never-shown mouse-wife in a car wreck or drug-turf war or something. I mean… this fight was personal, people.
I was speaking to a friend while we walked around Bushwick when she mentioned that her friend was the roommate of Grand Puba, the rapper. I wondered which rappers would make the best and worst roommates. Since I don’t know many rappers personally, I have to draw conclusions from what they reveal about themselves in their lyrics.