'Objects In Space'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
How many songs does that hold?
240. And you have to listen to them more or less randomly. You can advance to a new song, but you get no screen or any of the advanced features of a full fledged iPod. But you put together a playlist or two of 240 songs and you're good to go.
I must get me some vw time!
I know! I need some Nicole time too!
240.
Cool. That might be a possibility. Maybe I could get my parents to go in on it...
Though the 240 song version is $150.
The $99 version holds 120 songs.
Bleah.
Hi, all.
Just a quick drive-by. I've been down with the flu (last week) and now, a giant cold. It's of the major suck.
And I just sat here like an idiot for two minutes trying to think of something to say, and there's nothing here but nasal pain. So I"m going to crawl into bed with some hot tea.
Poor Erin!
I feel your pain. Well, sorta. I'm not sick, just extremely lacking in downtime and sleep. TV is just depressing enough tonight to allow me to hit the sheets early. Umm...yay?
Get better soon, Erin and Nicole.
All this to-have-or-not-to-have-sex talk is making me need to hunt down some good old fashioned Spike fic. Mmm, guys with phallic symbols for names. Uh huh.
Anyone who responds with links to apostolic slash, I will find.
And kill. Slowly.
Using an apple-peeler thingy.
A rusty apple-peeler.
ETA: Where there's a whip, there's a way.
ita, the zumanity camisole is so you.
If that link breaks, go to Women's clothing and look for the black zumanity camisole.
A short vacation in Ohio?
Go Ohio. Choose Ohio.
I can't even get to a page to start looking, Betsy.
Bugger. It's a camisole from Cirque du Soleil.