Singing telegram. Beer. Russian bride. Toilet paper. Pants. As an intermittent shut-in, nothing makes me happier than the ability to get anything (anything!) delivered to my house, without having to go outside. As the lone inhabitant of planet earth who is not a Netflix member (I’m not sure how i feel about people who don’t eat beans and toast or watch Fawlty Towers saying “queue”), I was nonetheless overjoyed for my fellow hermits that they will soon not even have to go outside to their mailboxes to watch an entire season of My So Called Life (or, MSCL in the biz). Fellow Brooklynites: join me in never leaving your house again.
Jordan Catalano will only break your heart.
I thought you meant that Claire Danes could be delivered to my house. Because then, I would truly never leave.
If this happened to johnbaptisedme however, she would leave and find a new apartment.
Hurrah Netflix!