[claps twice, shows hands to eye in the sky, walks away from table]
You know what? Forget it. Just forget it. Liz, you deserve Granthony. If all it takes is him shaving the pornstache and discovering hair product and Men’s Wearhouse for one day, then go for it. Slurp it up. Lick it clean, pick your teeth with your fingernails, wipe your hands on your pants and ask for seconds.
Labels: Jesus H. Christ in a sidecar drinking tequila, unholy obsessions
posted by Gleemonex at 10:37 AM
4 Comments:
I don't understand. I'm really just commenting for the sake of commenting!
LJ's heavy-handed, inevitable plot lines... I can't tear my eyes away. Liz will be tending the Spawn of Francoise for years, probably to neatly tie up a planned infertility story arch.
I love that he brought a troll as a date.
And dude, she keeps gettin beat with the ugly stick between every panel ...
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