Misha: There’s a foot in my balls right now. Just FYI.
Misha: You’re not cute, West. People say that but they’re just kidding.
Misha: I’m the shoe chef
Misha: Did you go into Jared’s trailer? Oh man, that is the scariest place.
Misha: Just give me a slow death…wait, that’s not what I want.
Misha: I don’t like working with you two. Just as an aside.
Misha: It’s always Jared’s fault.
Misha: I did not say that I wasn’t a serial killer. I just don’t necessarily have a problem with that.
Misha: The first thing you want to do when you get on a boat is spread your legs.
Misha: Oh, and the other thing that kind of pisses me off to be honest? Did not see a kangaroo, it’s a myth. The whole country’s based on lies.
Misha: Sitting in the Impala when Jared farts is very much one of those teaching experiences. I think we can learn so much through the suffering. Try to face it head on. Especially when you can’t roll down the window because it will fuck up the shot.
Misha: Yeah, it’s nice having Jared’s foot in your crotch. It makes coming to work that much better.
Misha: I’m just trying to remember what self-respect feels like. It’s a fading memory.
Misha: Like, am I trying to be a dick, or does it come natural? No, that just comes natural.
Misha: But she also came back from that weekend bearing some bruises on her inner thighs. Which neither of us, again, can account for. Serious overshare just then. The message I’m trying to tell is that all good things begin with a blackout
Misha: Wait a minute…what the fuck did you just say? you’re not jealous of me?
Misha: If fandom were a kingdom I would be the queen. Because in chess, the queen is the most powerful piece—and because there are several photos of me circulating in drag.
Misha: I’ll do anything, I mean for money.