I’m so sick of the “will they or won’t they” game.

The writers need to break the tension; one of them needs to make the first move.

No mixed feelings.

I wish there was more wind.

I like wind.

Imagine going to a buffet where everything is gone except a suspicious and particularly greasy clam chowder or an overcooked ham sandwich that’s been left out too long.

Also, you have a shellfish allergy.

Four years ago, I voted for President Harris as the lesser of two evils.

This year, I vote for Queen Kamala I, as the lesser of two evils.

I’m not part of the drag scene, but my understanding is that drag is an exaggerated performance of gender.

The actual situation of the actor doesn’t really factor into whether or not it’s drag. It’s also not exclusively an exaggerated performance of femininity.

I reckon I could carry those bricks.

So Congress has one man, with a particular set of skills, tasked with apprehending targets and bringing them to the House floor.

Sounds like a movie idea.