At this point in my life, I think I’ve earned courtesy, respect, and nude photos of Christina Hendricks.
Someone should cast Christina Hendricks as a serial killer whose weapon of choice is the chest bump. You’re welcome, Spielberg.
I want Christina Hendricks to have my baby. I just need her address and a baby-sized envelope.
Big government needs rebranding. What if we called it “Gorgeous, voluptuous Christina Hendricks-style government”?
When I die, I hope they say, “We’re not here to mourn. We’re here to console Christina Hendricks, his secret girlfriend.”