You know what. We’re gonna take a break from our usual posting style because we have got THINGS TO SAY.
Warning: The following may contain spoilers for Season 1, Episode 11 of Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist.
Dear men of Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist,
YOU ALL NEED TO GET YOUR S**T TOGETHER AT ONCE.
Courtney: First and foremost, Max. HEY. MAX. Stop. Knock it off at once. You whiny angstybabyman. Your supposed best friend? Her father is DYING. Like, picking out plots and coffins DYING. And you are giving her the silent treatment, snarking on her at work, and generally acting like a complete and total doucherocket to Planet Douche of the Douche Galaxy. Zoey had to be the one to approach and make peace with you? REALLY? Gross.
Carly: We’ve been willing to fully acknowledge in the past that Zoey’s inability to choose was a little aggravating (as we too are sick of the love triangle device, it’s tired, put it out to pasture for a few decades), but she also gets a special pass for certain behavior lately on account of the fact that she is dealing with SO MUCH. As someone who is supposedly so close to the family that you could roll up at any time and drop off special treats for Mitch, HOW ARE YOU NOT MORE SYMPATHETIC. And when did you become lunch buddies with Leif all of a sudden?!
Courtney: Simon, you’re next. You aren’t even in this episode and you are next, that is how very next you are that even when you are invisible you are NEXT. YOU LEAVE THAT NICE GIRL ALONE. I realize she launched her vagina at you like a pebble from a slingshot but she is going through stuff and you are going through SO MUCH STUFF and you both need therapy and to stay the whole entire eff away from each other. I’m glad India DeBeaufort is snuggling up with Schneider (her IRL husband!) on One Day at a Time right now because she deserves better.
Carly: SHE’S MARRIED TO SCHNEIDER?! OK, she wins everything. Simon, you were literally out of sight, out of mind for me this week. Which probably says enough all on its own, but there was just… so much, just so much happening within Zoey’s circle of friends and acquaintances and coworkers and LOUSY BEST FRIENDS that I don’t think there was even room for you. Sorry, bro. Hope you’re still not singing Gary Jules in your kitchen.
Courtney: Leif. Honey. Air Supply is never the answer.
Carly: Oh, Leif. Oh, you precious, smitten, gangly man. You’ve fallen and you’ve fallen hard for Joan, haven’t you? It’s understandable, it really is. I mean, look at her. She’s a boss b*tch who doesn’t suffer fools but even she realizes that you were kind of a mistake. A fun mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. And no one ever wants to be serenaded at a karaoke bar. Any hope you had of exiting this fling with your dignity still intact disappeared.
Courtney: Mo, you’re cool. Mitch, you’re cool. *sniffle* Too cool. Also, Paul Feig the funeral home guy is cool too. THAT’S IT. THREE COOL MEN AND ONE OF THEM ISN’T MAKING IT PAST NEXT WEEK PRESUMABLY. *double sniffle* Zoey’s brother, don’t think I’ve forgiven you yet for that fight with Zoey a few weeks ago.
Carly: It’s fine, I don’t remember his name either. Three can stay! Everyone else needs to practice social distancing and think about what they did until next week.