sara, you saying doesn't make it real, sorry.
Joyce: You don't think it's too obvious? I think I look like I have a cat on my head. Buffy: But a very well groomed cat. Joyce: Well that's a comfort.
'Bring On The Night'
Natter 36: But We Digress...
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
msbelle - Jun 30, 2005 11:41:52 am PDT #6048 of 10001
I remember the crazy days. 500 posts an hour. Nubmer! Natgbsb
tommyrot - Jun 30, 2005 11:42:39 am PDT #6049 of 10001
Sir, it's not an offence to let your cat eat your bacon. Okay? And we don't arrest cats, I'm very sorry.
You are all imaginary. I said so earlier.
We exist in an alternate universe, where everyone has goatees.
§ ita § - Jun 30, 2005 11:43:27 am PDT #6050 of 10001
Well not canonically, no, but this is transformative fiction.
We exist in an alternate universe, where everyone has goatees.
::buys trimmer::
sarameg - Jun 30, 2005 11:43:56 am PDT #6051 of 10001
sara, you saying doesn't make it real, sorry.
Yuh-huh!
-t - Jun 30, 2005 11:45:00 am PDT #6052 of 10001
I am a woman of various inclinations and only some of the time are they to burn everything down in frustration
It's, like, twenty-something carats. Humongous.
brenda m - Jun 30, 2005 11:46:55 am PDT #6053 of 10001
If you're going through hell/keep on going/don't slow down/keep your fear from showing/you might be gone/'fore the devil even knows you're there
Bearing in mind that Paris Hilton has large paws, this is the hugest ring known to man. Has to be.
I saw a ring not unlike that the other night at the ball game. Some player's wife.
Scrappy - Jun 30, 2005 11:47:22 am PDT #6054 of 10001
Life moves pretty fast. You don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.
Tacky, tacky, tacky.
JZ - Jun 30, 2005 11:49:11 am PDT #6055 of 10001
See? I gave everybody here an opportunity to tell me what a bad person I am and nobody did, because I fuckin' rule.
Random report from The Land Of Secret Twelve-Year-Olds:
At lunch a few minutes ago I was standing in line at the cafeteria grill behind a nursing coordinator whom I've seen for ages and always admired but never spoken to: spiky hair, big lush body covered in goth-lite wear or eccentric prints in deeply saturated hues, extremely cool blood-red cat-eye glasses, a snarkful face, and a big laugh.
Today the grill line wasn't moving, wasn't moving, and wasn't moving. She turned to me, rolled her eyes forever, and said, "Painfully slow today."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I can't think right now because I'm too mesmerized by the most Folsom Street glove box I've ever seen," and I pointed to a box of disposable food handler's gloves that featured a picture of a giant begloved hand making a big fierce fist, above copy bragging about its toughness, antimicrobial properties and gauntlet cuff.
She looked, did a beautiful double-take, and totally lost her shit, and we spent the rest of our lunch wait snerking like twelve-year-olds.
And I'm heartbroken that after 15 minutes of Googling, I can't find an image of the box itself; it's such a vast confluence of accidental porniness that I just can't believe it's accidental.
lori - Jun 30, 2005 11:49:36 am PDT #6056 of 10001
ChiKat - Jun 30, 2005 11:50:08 am PDT #6057 of 10001
That man was going to shank me. Over an omelette. Two eggs and a slice of government cheese. Is that what my life is worth?
And it looks like she bits her nails.