No cookies is a dead give-away that it’s fiction.

The West Wing and cookies. Cookies and the West Wing. 

Don’t mind me, just trying to lie here and hibernate.

Leo: Andrew Jackson, in the main foyer of his White House had a big block of cheese.
Toby: Huh.
Leo: I am making a mental list of those who are snickering, and even as I speak I am preparing appropriate retribution. The block of cheese was huge - over two tons. And it was there for any and all who might be hungry.
Toby: Leo, wouldn’t this time be better spent plotting a war against a country that can’t possibly defend itself against us?
Leo: We can do that later, Toby. Right now I’m talking about President Andrew Jackson.
Sam Actually, right now, you’re talking about a big block of cheese.
Leo: And Sam goes on my list!
Sam: What about Toby?
Leo: I’m unpredictable. Jackson wanted the White House to belong to the people, so from time to time, he opened his doors to those who wished an audience.
Mandy: And then he locked the doors behind them and made them eat two tons of cheese.
Leo: It is in that spirit…
Sam: Hang on. Mandy doesn’t go on the list?
Leo: Mandy’s new.
Sam: So it’s just me… on the list?
Leo: Yes. It is in the spirit of Andrew Jackson that I, from time to time, ask senior staff to have face-to-face meetings with those people representing organizations who have a difficult time getting our attention. I know the more jaded among you, see this as something rather beneath you. But I assure you that listening to the voices of passionate Americans is beneath no one, and surely not the peoples’ servants.
Josh: [walks in with C.J.] Sorry, we’re late. Is it “Total Crackpot Day” again?
Leo: Yes, it is.
Sam: And let us please note that Josh does not go on the list.

I want someone to bring me cookies in the middle of the night.

I just went and got a coffee at Tim Horton’s

drinkyourjuice:

So I asked him what kinds of cookies he had in there, and he laughed — LAUGHED — at me through the speaker and told me that I’m “funny.”

That’s just mean. One don’t laugh at the “what cookies do you got” question, that one is dead serious. There might be new ones, or one might not want the regular cookie. We’re talking worse than standing in a torn-down shower and asking “what genocide?” That man needs to take parts of his job more seriously.

notarobotbutaghost:

breakfastinbed:

Just wanna go to sleeeeeeeeeeeep maaaaan

BUT I BROUGHT YOU COOKIES!

Those might be are the most beautiful words in the English language.

The worst part of dropping cookies on the floor?  As Bunk says: “Murder stay murder.” I feel like a fugitive from crimes I didn’t mean to commit. I was young, man. I didn’t know.

This was the end of cookies…