And I love Lindsay's line where it's like, if you want me to not speak up on these topics, then you better make a lot of fucking money, which is like it's it's like Carl is putting Lindsay.
He did his national service in the Fleet Air Arm, flying Sea Fires, which is the ocean-going version of the Spitfire, and then Sea Furies, which is an enormous plane with a huge rotary engine on the front.
He brought out of the pantry a dish of scraps, which Vixen at once fixed her eyes on, and jumped out of her hamper to lick up with the utmost dispatch.
It's a catty way to get attention and vent, when the emotionally healthy response is to talk your grievances over with them directly when the time is right.
I'm going to delay this gratification of me spazzing out like a little bitch, overreacting, temper myself, get in my masculine energy, and this too shall pass.