And someone please make me step away from boggling and snarking at the Ladies Against Feminism site. I could be doing any number of other things. I could make silly faces at my daughter to make her laugh (actually, I'm already doing that, in between snarks). That's always good. I could write. I'm supposed to be a writer, after all. Or I could read my critique partner's partial that I'm supposed to get back to her in the next few days. Or just go watch basketball. Any one of those is probably a better use of my time than reading LAF articles, yet there i am.
'Serenity'
Spike's Bitches 22: You've got Angel breath
[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.
I'm fine with Cindy as Supreme Ruler if I can sneak books into the nap room. 'Cuz I can't sleep in the day even if I try.
Susan, step away from the LAF website. If you don't, your computer may explode in 30 seconds. Do you really want to risk that?
I tell you what, you could do my math.
This seems to be the position of a fair subset of columnists -- everybody would OBVIOUSLY be gay if they had a choice in the matter, so it's your job to impose heterosexuality on a reluctant substrate.
Cause girls? Both icky and confusing.
But we're soft and smell nice, so it all works out.
I tell you what, you could do my math.
You wouldn't want that. I'd cause your GPA to stumble for sure.
But we're soft and smell nice, so it all works out.
Unless we play sports and get all lean and muscular and sweaty.
I clicked on the links, read a sentence of each, and then closed them quickly. I never got to the pictures of women athletes.
Calli, if by chance you happen to see this, do you remember the blanket you made for me in the exchange? For the rest following along, it's dark blue with a pattern of silver lines for water and a silver full moon.
Kara has appropriated it to hang over her car bed so she can see the moon at night. It's very cute.
She was scarily sweet and loving today, and Aidan, the rat fink, who had me worried enough to call the doctor with his non-responsiveness, has suddenly begun responding to his name, "talking" to people, singing snatches of song and wanting to play with others instead of by himself.
I swear, I'm not calling the doctor for either of them again until I see the blood.
and because I can't quite stop talking about them without going on a little bit longer than necessary:
Today Aidan got his arm stuck in the spindles on the stairs (he's walking up and down, holding onto the spindles, instead of crawling!). When I went and wriggled his arm out of the stuck spot, Kara shouted, "Oh, Mom! You saved his wife!" She was very proud of me.
Geh. "What makes boys gay."
Geh. I can tell you, very easily, what made me gay: the same thing that makes straight people straight.
Geh. I'm deliberately NOT stepping onto my soapbox. It makes people angry with me (justifiably) because I can't discuss gay identity issues, I can only YELL, and that alienates allies and offends friends.
retires muttering to his dark corner
Hot women make me gay.
The Buffistas are responsible for my Kinsey scale sliding toward the middle. (And there are boxer shorts to prove it!)