In which economic downturns lead to strange times indeed.
Sometimes, things happen in ways that make perfect sense, if you’ve got the right metaphor to figure them out.
You are Neil Patrick Harris, and you are high as a fucking Learjet.
“George Michael, hi. It’s your cousin, Maeby. I’ve got a business proposition for you. Oh, and don’t worry. It has nothing to do with the family. Call me.”
At first, Max just gaped. Alec couldn’t have just said what she thought he said.