Chandler M. Bing.

❛ ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ "ʙʟᴇʜ". ɪ'ᴍ ᴀ ʜᴏᴏᴛ! ❜ —> ɴᴏᴛ ɴᴇᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ —> ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋ || sᴇʀɪᴏᴜs —> ᴀʟʟ sᴇᴀsᴏɴs —> ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ʙʏ #ᴍɪɢᴊɪɢ —> ʀᴛ?

Yeah, because he'll make a snarky comment back. And his are always better. “The game. Our team lost but Ross fell over into some mud so it cheered me and Joey up.”

“Hey, the gangs almost here.”

“Well, that's what I'm here for, teaching this stuff.”

“You know how beautiful you look when you're giving someone your judgemental face?”

“OH GOD I BROKE MONICA'S PLATE. THAT'S IT. I GOTTA GET OUTTA HERE. MOVE TO. . . JAMAICA! Or just hop right into my coffin, save her some time.”

“Yes, yes it is. As much as I'd just /Love/ to learn how to make coffee. . . I never will. Only time I did was when me and Ross were getting bullied— Wow this sounds sadder because it wasn't in college.”

“Honestly I've given up ever making coffee for myself. Takes like someone spat in it and I wouldn't be surprised if I spat in my own coffee.”

|| OOF THE TEMPTATION TO MAKE CHANDLER STILL HAVE THE CHICK AND DUCK

“Should probably stop reading these women's magazines. . . But come on who doesn't want to know—” Looks at magazine. “—are my breasts too big for my part— uh oh this is a weird one.”