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Something about outtakes from a Ron Popeil infomercial involving a rotisserie, some boy scouts, a goat and some lifetime-guaranteed titanium skewers...
I love when he does crazy shit like that and the guest star is just sitting on the couch watching it all happen without him/her...every expression is the same: "What the fuck am I doing here? I'm so firing my agent!"
I love the fact that Dolly Parton adores him. It's one of those things that defies all logical explanation, yet the proof is right there, and you leave the experience feeling sure you just witnessed the first sign of the apocolypse.
Anyway, enough about Graham. Is there any way for me to get you to pack Dimmock in a box and ship her to my house? I so love a fire-head that knows how to get her hands dirty. *Sigh*
Yeah, don't ask. Just do it. And try not to think about it too much afterwards.