Blessings on her, then.

Hell yeah, it's for the Greater Good.

This is fun:

meara: They called a bomb threat in over a week in advance??? That's very strange....

amych: Calling in the threat was on their to-do list and they didn't want to forget in the mad rush of actually planting the bomb?

Jacqueline: Okay, obviously that’s not funny at all, except for being fucking hysterical. God knows that if I were a mad bomber, I’d have to do it that way. Then they’d probably find my bomb, inert and un-detonated, with the wrong size batteries crammed into it wrong way round and a Post-It stuck to the top saying "1. Call in threat. 2. Wash capoeira pants. 3. CAT FOOD!!!!"

Susan W: Any sentence that starts out with "The Texas Rangers entered a neonatal unit" should finish with a heartwarming tale of baseball players encouraging people during a tough time, not with law enforcement trying to track down representatives with dissenting views.

billytea: I have to be honest; any sentence that begins with "The Texas Rangers entered a neonatal unit" has already pretty much exceeded my sentential expectations.

billytea: So they haven't got back to me on an offer. If they do, I'm going to attribute it to the aptitude testing. Now I can only hope that my duties will include completing sequences of coloured shapes.

I'm pretty sure I've gotten things on the BRQG that weren't in COMM, and that not everything in COMM makes it to the BRQG, is what I mean. Not that shrift makes us funnier.

Now here's a dive that you could probably identify as Betsy's even without attribution.

*********

Betsy: Nabokov is as precious as a thing that is twee. Nabokov is as manly as a Fabergé dildo encrusted with moonstones.

Jesse, BWAH!!

That's what I figured. Shrift exercises her editorial eye so that mostly only funny stuff gets in. A mighty sieve is our Shrift.

Like a homosexual necrophiliac duck crushed underneath the wheels of the Hickmobile of Sexually Ambiguous Jealousy.

Dude, *you* ran over a duck!

In your hickmobile.

And the duck was probably screwed by another duck after you drove away!

Shrift: urband legend.

FayJay: Also, LittleSisterJay sent miscellaneous nice bits & pieces from China, my favourite of which was arguably the bottle of moisturiser called Sod Milk. Sent, presumably, because she knew one of us would find it amusing. My mother and I laughed like drains. "How do you milk a sod?" she asked, to which I was obliged to reply that I had an anecdote about that from last New Year's Eve, but wasn't drunk enough to share it.

Am-Chau: Snerk! It may be that we should ship Sod Milk from the Buffista store, such are the porny possiblities of this thing.

What does it say on the label? "Can be rubbed into sensitive skin. No animals were harmed in the making of this product, though some evolved apes may have had fun*. Not for use by under 18s."

• And by fun, we mean...

FayJay: No, the label says:

chinese character chinese character chinese character SOD chinese character chinese character chinese character chinese character chinese character chinese character chinese character chinese character chinese character chinese character SOD chinese character chinese character chinese character chinese character chinese character chinese character chinese character chinese character SOD.