I ran into Neal Patrick Harris recently. We were in something called The Purple People Eater. He was maybe 10, but he still remembered it as the worst experience of his life!
Looking back, all I can say is that the meeting with Bush was one of the most disgusting experiences in my life.
That really was NOT fun, though. Well, the hitting-her-with-a-stick part, that was fun. But crashing into a concrete bear? NOT fun.
It's a dreadful thing to come in this way.
It was the meanest moment of eternity.
In all my years here, I don't think I've ever seen quite so many assholes gathered in one place!
Hey, Carlos," the Professor says when he walks in. "How was REACH?" "It sucked." "Can you be more specific?" my guardian asks. "It really sucked," I elaborate, sarcasm dripping from every word.
I had my first kiss when I was 11, but I think I've blocked it out of my mind because it was so bad. I'm not even sure it counts as a kiss.
I don't think anyone enjoyed it. Apart from the people who watched it.
There is a painful difference between the expectation of an unpleasant event and its final certainty.
