This is the absolute worst of the Denim Troubadour music. Let me explain to you how this guy got into the Pile High Club. She's this sedate little Japanese girl until you get her near a seafood buffet and then she goes fucking feral. If you need help with that I'm moving out of state in a week, I'm jobless, and I have a really big metal flashlight. Sure she wants to be looked at; she just doesn't want YOU looking at her.
After Twin Peaks some chords just belong to Badalamenti.
No fucking way was it a job interview. I walked in and there were ten chairs and a whiteboard, I just spun around and walked out. We play a game we like to call "cellphone or street lunatic?".
I said you know, she will do anything for her friends and doesn't give a shit about anyone who isn't, and the people she dates aren't necessarily her friends.
Oh he's getting the asshole tax for sure.