Oh my god, I should not be laughing this hard at work.
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.
Cash, when I was Owen's age or slightly older, I had a penchant for standing up under a coffee table and splitting my scalp open. Did it more than once. My dad got real good at butterfly bandaging my head.
I don't remember it, or hold it against my parents for owning such a horrible coffee table..
You should get it for him, but with ears.
We should get it for you. With ears.
I love Aimee bunches.
Eek. I have a phobia about the Ashes... (Don't ask me why...they don't make sense, right? Phobias?)
I'd want a funeral, but I'm more concerned about making sure the liquor is right than the ceremony. Other than that, I trust whoever is in charge of me to make the big calls, with the caveat that I'm by no means of a life-at-all-cost mentality. Organs - use 'em; remains - well, I'd prefer not to be left to rot in an alley, but whatever.
We're buying the damned entertainment center we can't really afford that puts the components behind glass AND on top of the TV.
I love having electronics up high. Leif will still make makeshift piles of stuff to reach high stuff, but height will slow him down. Lately he has learned to blame things on his sister, but he hasn't learned to pick his moments yet.
I want my ashes to be baked into doggie treats and given to wolves.
OK, that was just the first thing that came to mind. Maybe I'll think of something better.
I have eaten cremated human remains. Part of a funeral rite
I'd want a funeral, but I'm more concerned about making sure the liquor is right than the ceremony.
I want a wake. But no viewing. Party party party. Make a CD of VH-1's top 100 1 hit wonders, play it to death and dance and tell stories. Everyone wear a tiara.
-t is not invited.