If this could be considered a catch phrase, it has to be her's. My roomate says this line at least twice everyday [that I hear], usually when she's on the phone. It happened again last night when she turned on that OC show [at full blast, too, my eardrums are still ringing]. Every little plot twist resulted in "That was like, crazy, ya'know?...yeah."
I won't tease her for crying when they killed off a character though. Hell if I didn't cry when they killed Doyle, Cordy, and Fred on Angel. Or Hughs on FMA [I still live in denial on that one...]
Oi, let's not forget the baby-powder fight that happened later. Holy s**t. It's freakin' everywhere-in the bathroom, the common room, the hall, the room next to us [they did manage to avoid getting it in my room though. I think I made it clear that if they mess with my stuff, I will cut them.] The girl that has a room to my left was just covered in it, head to toe, all in her hair, in her clothes [not on, IN]. When her roomate came home, oh dear gaia, the look on her face. It was like looking into a crystal ball for what my face would be like if I came home to find that mess. It was all over their floor, beds, computers [automatic death sentence in my book]. It wasn't pretty. And the jackasses that made the biggest part of the mess really didn't do anything to clean it up.
Hell, they let these guys in, they can deal with their mess. As long as they stay the hell away from stuff, whatever.
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