|I should be on this show.|
|Yeah, it's the tails that were really throwing me off here.|
I just...can't. Literally can not. Pretty sure that if I even start to talk about this show a deluge of feminist rage and angst will pour out of me and never. fucking. stop. Like, I'll be trying to order coffee and only be able to spout Lacan and Mulvey and then I won't be able to have coffee or food and I'll starve to death and it will be ALL YOUR FAULT, NBC. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?!
|Maya Rudolph is better than anything.|
|100% of your life would end if I strangled you with sweatpants. Now we all have fun statistics.|
Full disclosure: I couldn't bring myself to watch any of this show. And now I can no longer look at my one pair of sweatpants without seeing them as a murder weapon. WILL THE MADNESS NEVER STOP, NBC? STOP MAKING ME SO CAPS LOCK-Y.
*pluck. puke. prick. Alliteration is fun.