Flor Moreno: It's something, watching you.
John Clasky: Well. Well, if it's anything on your end, imagine over here. Scratch that. The last thing you want to hear is someone going off on your looks.
Flor Moreno: Don't be crazy. Tell me EVERY detail.
John Clasky: Okay. Okay, I will.
Flor Moreno: [Settles in to listen. Places chin in hand] Uh-hmm.
John Clasky: They should name a gender after you. Looking at you doesn't do it. Staring is the only way that makes any sense. And trying not to blink, so you don't miss anything. And all of that, and you're YOU.
John Clasky: I mean...
John Clasky: Look, forgive me. It's just you are DROP DEAD, CRAZY GORGEOUS! So much so that I'm actually considering looking at you again before we finish up here.
Flor Moreno: [Whisper] Soon, please.
Now that we all know where LeBron is going, let us move on.
They plan to drop a bunch of cement on the hole in the sea and the oil spill will be over.
Michael Steele please sit down! I’m trying to help you keep your job but you have to stop talking.
Do you know anyone who works three or more jobs to make ends meet? I do. (Selling three types of drugs does not count, sit down.)
I’m trying to figure out if Drake is still in love with Alicia. Does anyone know? I mean, his album should be called [Whatever the area code is in Toronto] & HeartBreak. But at the same time, how you looking for love but texting a jumpoff you got pregnant? What you arguing about?
Where is Jay-Z?
Where is Kobe Bryant?
Has anybody seen Bobby Brown lately?
All I see is fireworks… I kind of want to blow something up this weekend. Like set a big pile of trash on fire. I was thinking Congress. I’m just kidding though… seriously.
Life is good. God is good.