I can’t help it, it’s that good:
Of course, this one is also from the Microserfs.“I mean, it’s like you go to somebody’s house for Thanksgiving and they’ve spent eighteen hours covering the rooms with little orange squashes and quinces and crepe paper, and the meal is like Henry the Eighth, and you can’t eat because you get this creepy sick feeling that the person who did the dinner has nothing else to do with their life. It’s the dark side of Martha Stewart’s Living.”
