An ode to my once favoritest show in the universe, which has rendered me incapable of hearing "Tiny Dancer" without thinking of the song stylings of Michael Gary Scott.
And while we're talking about, "The Office," I was emailed a snapshot of a certain cast member's high school yearbook entry (which proves the whole six degrees of separation theory). I'm not going to say who or how*, but let's just say it left me feeling infinitely better about my own tragic adolescent photos.
*Well.... Unless you're promising me pints of Ben & Jerry's. Then, maybe, we can chat.
I got angry at Steve Carrell when I heard him announce over the radio that the show could survive without him. But Will Ferrel almost made me pee my pants at the end of that episode. And I haven't laughed out loud to that show since Jim tried to have sex with Pam in a box in the warehouse.
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