Warning: Full spoilers for the episode follow...
Hooray! The adorably repugnant Jimmy (Chris Geere) and Gretchen (Aya Cash) are back for a new season of neglected feelings, selfish motives, and hilarious anti-hipster vibes with "The Sweater People," which saw the two feverishly trying to shuck normal relationship conventions by keeping themselves in a non-stop storm of drunken debauchery.
With the two now living together, one can surely expect, at some point, an uproarious culture clash. Jimmy, for all intents and purposes, is the adult while Gretchen is the scatterbrained packrat. But aside from Jimmy sneaking a coaster under her drink, this episode wasn't about that. It was about the sheer amount of noise, pain, and blunder the two of them were willing to bring upon themselves so as to not feel like they're in a stable, domesticated relationship. A game of chicken where neither of them want to let the other know that they'd actually appreciate a quite night at home with good book and a roaring fire. And so it went. Night after night, forcing themselves into doing endless shots, mounds of ********, and "butt stuff."
Continue reading…
Continue reading...
Hooray! The adorably repugnant Jimmy (Chris Geere) and Gretchen (Aya Cash) are back for a new season of neglected feelings, selfish motives, and hilarious anti-hipster vibes with "The Sweater People," which saw the two feverishly trying to shuck normal relationship conventions by keeping themselves in a non-stop storm of drunken debauchery.
With the two now living together, one can surely expect, at some point, an uproarious culture clash. Jimmy, for all intents and purposes, is the adult while Gretchen is the scatterbrained packrat. But aside from Jimmy sneaking a coaster under her drink, this episode wasn't about that. It was about the sheer amount of noise, pain, and blunder the two of them were willing to bring upon themselves so as to not feel like they're in a stable, domesticated relationship. A game of chicken where neither of them want to let the other know that they'd actually appreciate a quite night at home with good book and a roaring fire. And so it went. Night after night, forcing themselves into doing endless shots, mounds of ********, and "butt stuff."
Continue reading…
Continue reading...