As part of the Night Vale dating rituals, interest is expressed by sending your desired partner a heart. A bloody, beating heart. You can obtain hearts from from the City Council by standing in front of the town hall and screeching into the void.
Miss Grant’s visit to my office today resulted in one urgent, pressing question.
DID CAT GRANT JUST ASK ME ON A DATE?
Cat is known for being decisive, clear, driven and articulate. I fancy myself fluent in her… nuances. But “vague Cat” escapes me. We are to attend an event, presumably art related at something called “the BFA”
Note: Research possible meanings of said acronym.
As we are taking her car and she has made all the arrangements, this is a date, right?
However, we are leaving directly from work, negating any opportunity to indulge in all typical pre-date rituals. Therefore… not a date.
She was so firm. And so unclear. Will dinner be involved? If yes… date… if no… Not a date. Dinner was not mentioned. So, not a date.
Not all dates include dinner. She is taking me to an art show. Something geared to my particular interests, not hers. Ergo… date.
Is this a cleavage event? Or a non-cleavage event? The date, or non-date-ness of the evening is vital in this decision.
Note: Borrow garment with modest cleavage from Alex.
Should I buy her flowers?
I shall assume this is not a date until solid evidence proves it otherwise.
This one is pretty one-sided, though, as Michonne is oblivious.
Rick [takes a quick rinse as a dating ritual before approaching Michonne]: Need any help with that?
Translation: I’m glad you’re sticking around for a bit, cause I missed you and I want to spend some time with you. Can’t exactly ask you out for a drink or a movie or take a walk in a park, such as things are, so the only quality time we can really have is work. So can I work with you?
Michonne [ridiculously unaware, but gives a winning smile]: Nah, do your thing.
Edit: I think it’s also possible Michonne thought that since she had been so incredibly MIA, that she wanted to prove pulling her own weight (by literally dragging walker bodies). Still, she was unaware he was trying to hit her up, though.
Translation: My pride isn’t hurt, but my feelings are. I thought she was into me…
I think this is why there was such a delay on Richonne. Rick had put out feelers, feelers that Michonne wasn’t aware of (it does happen), and he took that as disinterest. It’s clear she cares about him and his kids, but he wanted her to care about him in that way, and assumed she didn’t. Oh, sweet, miscommunication…you devil, you.
Joan Rivers, comedienne, actress, jewelry monger, and an award-winning international star (she can sneer in eight different languages) lives by the golden rule: Do unto others before they do unto you—and for God’s sakes, do it funny! Her career in comedy may have begun with self-loathing, but, after looking at the decrepitude around her, she figured, “Why stop here when there are so many other things to hate?” With all of her experiences, Joan has looked down at, turned away from, and thrown up over a lot of hateful things, deplorable places, and despicable people. Thank God she took notes.
Here—uncensored and uninhibited—Joan says exactly what’s on her mind…And HER mind is a terrible thing to waste. She proudly kicks the crap out of ugly children, dating rituals, funerals, and lousy restaurants. She nails First Ladies, closet cases, and hypocrites to the wall. She shows no mercy towards doctors and feminists, and even goes after Anne Frank and Stephen Hawking. Joan lets everyone—including herself—have it in this one hundred percent honest and unabashedly hilarious love letter to the hater in all of us.
This is absolute Joan Rivers. You gotta love her. Even if she hates you.