Parker Posey in Waiting for Guffman (1996) dir. Christopher Guest
“It horrifies me that you felt like you’re an intruder. It doesn’t even make sense because… honestly, when I think of my life, I imagine you at the center.”
people have the audacity to equate vanilla with “plain”. the fruit of a delicate orchid pollinated by hand. worth its weight in solid gold and beyond. the fussy black-and-cream jewel of the american continent. you sick son of a bitch. imagine a world without vanilla. no blondies. no pound cakes. no crème brûlée, no coke floats. no cream soda. no satiny new york-style cheesecakes. no warm apple pie à la mode. no velvety complexity to bring out complex notes in chocolate desserts. no depth of flavour in your cakes and cookies and milkshakes. all in just a few precious seeds or grams of paste or perfumed teaspoons of liquid black platinum. what you don’t understand could fill the library of alexandria seven times over and then some. you ungrateful bastard i’m going to kill you
girls can blur the line between divine intuition and delusion, as a treat
there is a demon inside me who adds exclamation points to all my emails
KILLING EVE 4x08 | Hello, Losers
