Ken Burns Presents: Letters from the Privileged Quarantine Homefront
Dear Ma, It's bad out there. The Trader Joe's frozen aisle was completely decimated: no cauliflower crust pizza in sight.
Dear Ma, It's bad out there. The Trader Joe's frozen aisle was completely decimated: no cauliflower crust pizza in sight.
At night, my bath was too hot, I got hand sanitizer in my eyes, and I had to isolate in my presidential railroad-train pajamas. I hate those pajamas!
So why is Potbelly keeping your hard-earned taxpayer money? Because you all will fucking forget the second you’re allowed outside, that’s why.
Gold Plus-tier now has copay-free pharmaceuticals to treat any gases or poisons accidentally released from the many easily accessible air vents.
You refuse to wear me because of my stale odor but you refuse to wash me for I have not been worn! This chaotic torment tears my mind asunder!
Project Runaway Train: Designers are placed on trains careening toward the edge of a cliff at groundbreaking speed.
You’re that fired up about Gabe’s oatmeal raisin cookies in the break room? You’re not fooling anybody that you “dream about those bad boys!”
DENIAL: Maybe this isn’t even a legitimate cursed pot of money. ANGER: But--fairy fortunes don’t usually come with a blood curse!
I’d ask someone to save me from this giant octopus, but how do I know their hands aren’t contaminated?
It is true that I carry a mobile phone, which I use to stay in touch with my grandchildren. It is not true that I use it to play Candy Crush.
He says he got a "nasty case of sunburn" from his "trip to Hawaii," but I'm no idiot. I can tell that he too is suffering from coronavirus
To keep you safe on long interstate drives, Mother's Gap Lane Assist simulates a choking gasp from your mother’s throat when you veer out of lane.