"..and here I can show you our bot doing....wait. Ethyl? Has anyone seen my wife Ethyl? She was right here next to the autonomous scorpion killbot a second ago."
Eyebrow battle!
Rupert knew he was supposed to be learning Aperture, but surely no one would notice if he was without pants for 4-5 minutes.
iPod cases for furries.
Bradley chose the suave look for his lunchtime fooding.
Suddenly paranoid, the guitarist fled the backdrop, arms waving over his head.
"Any of you little bastards start jumping around like a sweaty Ballmer and I'll smack you so hard your mom will feel it. Capiche?
Man: A timeshare? I thought this was a software package? Well, if it's required, I guess I have to buy it too.
mac-at-kearsarge infiltrated our lunch with his coy smirk, his shiny head, and his eye lashes that perfectly shape-matched his nike sweatshirt logo.
That was close. I could smell his balloon musk yards away.
Blow-drying ipods always made Jason remember fondly days working as a vacuum repairman.
Oh shit, he's found us. Someone hide me before he shocks me with static electricity or worse, engages me in conversation.
Time slowed to a crawl as Stan continued. I'm pretty sure I saw two guys fall down and a baby being devoured by parents that had gone mad with boredom.
What every music aficionado/mad scientist wants for Xmas.
