I feel like mudwrestling, any body else up for it?
Dr. Walsh ,'Potential'
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 have a mad crush on my husband.
Awwwwwww. Nora, I'm glad you had a good day.
The Empress has pretty new hair! I love the color and cut. Also that lipstick looks awesome on you.
I just got Greg to agree to try to buy a house within the next 6 months.
Woo Hoo, Deena!!!
Well, sometimes there was making out before!
Okay, only twice.
Parker: Nooooo. That's not a walk of shame. I'm sorry.
Crap. I am shameless.
Also, Trudes, feel free to COMM Ginger. It won't make me cry or anything. Much.
P C, if it's not too forward, are you in anyway related to the Coucil of Watchers?
Tell Amy P hi!!!! I miss her!
Ugh. I think I got about an hour of sleep after The Walk. I have a hangover, and I have to go to the theatre in 45 minutes.
Walk of Shame was not very shamey. I went to a party, looking HoTt, drank a lot of wine, and made out for a long time with an old friend. Really cute old friend, but still, no shame.
Now I'm trying to hydrate and get rid of my headache so I can work this afternoon. AND it's the last day of my spring break. *sigh*
The Walk is vastly - vastly - amusing in club-going queer culture.
Ah, the memories of being at breakfast on Broadway in Seattle, and seeing some Pretty Young Thing(TM) stumbling down the sidewalk all disheveled and ravished-looking, quite hung-over, hair askew and makeup ruined, dressed in last night's club-gear.
Stretchy, clingy, shimmery t-shirts and vinyl pants don't look quite as alluring in the harsh yellow light of morning when us old farts are snickering with fond remembrance over our mochas at you - let's be clear, we're not laughing with you.
Yes, I'll take a saucer of milk with my cattiness. Sleep dep, away!
Crap. I am shameless.
I now have a Garth Brooks earworm
You have much to answer for, young man.
(Okay, so about 3/4s of the blame rests on the fact that I spent most weekends and some weekdays in the early 90s hanging out at a barn, where such music was frequently heard in the stables. But still.)
My WoS was made even better by the fact that I was clutching a giant body pillow and a breakfast biscuit.
Class-Y!
I so do not want to work today. Bleargh.