Mal ,'Our Mrs. Reynolds'
[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.
You are not wrong. She's absolutely ass-headed and spreading her ill informed opinion with the nonchalance of a seasoned expert.
Do wait till you're calmer to send the email off, but if it still reflects your opinion then, I'd send it off.
I'm demonstrably contentious this morning, however, so I may not be the best gauge to go by...
Since addiction is a lifelong illness, that affects both the psyche and the body, she's talking out her, shall we say, ass.
Rough draft of paper 2 is written. Granted, it's crap, but it's written.
I went and read the whole article, askye, and I'm still not sure what she means. I don't follow college football at all, there may be subtleties that escape me, but she seems to be spouting off on subjects she doesn't understand.
For one thing, she seems to think that a drug problem is curable.
I am sad. I got my boots, and they are too small. I would get the next size up but I think my calves would still be too fat for them. When will I learn that "big and roomy" for most people equals "pitifully small and tight" on my body?
Rough draft of paper 2 is written. Granted, it's crap, but it's written.
Now you can revise and make it sparkle. Also you should title it: The Jammy Todger (Or, Fay Said A Mouthful).
Go vw!
I am sad for your non-fitting boots, Nora. And a little apprehensive that mine, which have yet to arrive, will similarly not encase the camves.
Now you can revise and make it sparkle. Also you should title it: The Jammy Todger (Or, Fay Said A Mouthful).
It's off with my amazing editors as I type. And sorry, not giving it either of those titles, silly Hec.
I gave up about, oh, 20 years ago on ever finding boots to fit my calves. I love the tall boots, but they are not for me. Dammit.
if I ever get an iPod I may call it The Jammy Todger.