I got 99 problems and grad school is the factorial of that plus infinity times the ineffable word of the deity of your choice.
No one has remade Ferris Bueller's Day Off yet, right? Can we make sure that never happens? Like, not ever? Ever, ever, ever?
I am increasingly convinced that pronouns are tiny wizards easily turned into wicked gnomes bent on destroying humanity's collective soul.
Netflix, I'm going to just come out here and say it: "Exciting Movies" is not a particularly compelling or descriptive category.