So Poofy fly across country, dress like a Lacoste pumpkin, then bray about the teleprompting yobs. I am very confuse.
Found this in my archives … from the Superbowl, 2007. (Miami)
Beware of LA, indeed.
Depending upon what time the pilot wraps tomorrow, I’ll traipse around LA and see what I can scrounge up.
I already brought TWO pink tutus, just in case. Also, furry pink mittens that look like paws. And a sparkly wand.
Yes, I already owned all of those things.
HAHA yourself. I am the sick of you. This is no pilot on a “major cable network.” I live in small village and can smell lice-ridden rat a mile away. We eat them for dinner.
You are faking.
You are doing a nothing-segment or helping out friend with project or doing spec thingie that will never come to light.
You not fool me, Poofy Lady. I see through your smoke and mirrors. (And the mirrors make your buttocks look smaller, BUT STILL!).
I just say.