The bomb in Charlie’s pants is on the other side. And it’s made of poo.
Unless you count flat-ironing his hair, Charlie has never had an actual job or done anything economically productive in his entire life. Somehow though, he is friends with responsible employed people. “FRIENDS,” REALLY? NO ONE THAT THE FACT CHECKING DEPARTMENT CONTACTED WOULD CONFIRM. – ed.
One of them, a junior vice president for oils, salads and dressings at a $5 billion media company in midtown, invited Charlie for lunch yesterday and for reasons untold, he had to cancel.
THIS SAVED CHARLIE’S LIFE.
‘Why,’ you ask, gentle readers? Because that day it was ordered shut down by the United States Department of Health and Microwave Ovens. LIGHTEN UP ON THE 30 ROCK JOKES. IT MAKES YOU LOOK CHEAP. – ed. If Charlie’s sources in the building are correct, and they probably are, almost 56K people have been sent to the hospital with bleedy diarrhea. CAN YOU THINK OF A LESS OFFENSIVE WORD THAN THE BIG D. IT’S SO… MESSY. – ed.
Anyway, he narrowly escaped a bloody rectum — only to put himself in harm’s way again and again this weekend at the man bars. Zing. WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT CHEAP. THIS ISN’T A WOMAN’S MAGAZINE; CLEAN IT UP. – ed.
Tags: 30 Rock, bleedy, editor at large, explosion, food poisoning, tina fey, TNT
