If I made a list of things for Jacob to do with his hands, playing video games wouldn't even crack the top ten.
Pineapple Pizza couldn't be any more Canadian if it came with free healthcare and apologized for being terrible after every bite.
Funhaus Dating Tip #481 Before attempting to engage in "pillow talk" with a new partner, always wait until your open weeping has subsided. It will make your apologies and promises of improvement easier to understand.
The only thing keeping James from beating off to his own reflection every morning is the fear of wasting two teaspoons of perfectly good protein.
Somebody should tell James that the secret to drawing a mole is to make sure the chin is extra wrinkly and there's plenty of curly hair around the base of the nose.
Oof. I got nothin'. You might just wanna dive in cold and let this one wash over you. Then take like fifteen showers to try and scrub it away.
If only Ryan had devoted his magical brain to nobler pursuits, he could have found the cure for cancer and lost it in a moonshiner's outhouse by now.
Listen, and understand. Ryan is out there. He cant be bargained with. He cant be reasoned with. He doesn't feel pity or remorse or fear, and he absolutely will not stop... EVER, until this channel is DEAD!
Congratulations to Ms. Belinda Montrose of Spurgeon, Indiana for picking "Jizz Napkin" in the New Funhaus Catchphrase pool!
No joke: I was seriously confused for a bit at the eight minute mark when they actually started to play a video game. This series is doing things to my mind that I'm not totally comfortable with.
Me: "There's no way that Ryan's Bargain Bin could possibly get any more self-indulgent." Ryan: "Hold this beer I dipped my balls into."
At this point I would not be surprised if the final episode was just Ryan beating off to each of his reflections in one of those multi-angle dressing room mirrors.
Oh man. No moment in this series could ever top the look of genuine confusion and concern on Elyse's face when our special guest enters to room.
The only In-N-Out secret menu item I want is an order of fries that leaves off the two dozen Californian bros trying to convince me that they're edible.
Odds are that someday two of Ryan's sperm bank babies are going meet, bang, and reproduce, creating a child of unparalleled wisdom and beauty. But will they be humanity's savior? Or its downfall? Only Shai-Hulud knows.
My family didn't believe in therapy. We solved our disputes the old fashioned way: by filling each others ears with leperous distillments of cursed hebona.