Kaylee ,'Out Of Gas'
[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.
Plan of Attack but please note that I *never* claimed it was actually good, just spy-ish and naval (not navel, it is really not at all introspective).
However, some of the bad bad bad terrible no good guys do seem intent on wanting to make DG go boom. So there is the meta in that at least.
Heh. See, I know it can't be nearly that bad--I got a perfectly decent car loan and all that jazz. But tracking point by point? I fear I'll miss some mythical mortgage cutoff by random bizarre minutia and wish I'd known....and yet, the energy to care still escapes me.
Heh. Reading through some Amazon reviews of stuff, I came across this:
Collections like this one are a great way to introduce people to some of the great music that's been out there, but the title 'one hit wonder' is so often fragrantly misused.
Mmmm. Smells like one-hit wonders.
Because I was in that dating pool?No. Because I don't need to be introduced to Major Stuff-Up. Bastard already is stalking me.
BACK OFF MY BITCHES, WORLD!!!
BACK OFF MY BITCHES, WORLD!!!
::hushed golf announcer voice:: "And then, Kristin made a dramatic entrance. With a flaming sword."
BACK OFF MY BITCHES, WORLD!!!Yes, listen to Kristin for she is wise in this.
How are you doing tonight? Are you feeling better?
Okay a painfully hot bath, a nicely cold beer and a some fine U.S. pharmacuticals (Which, okay, googling tells me is usually dosed out at three times what I have. Explains the painful wimpiness of it.) are good things when combined. Now to ice. I didn't drain the tub yet as I suspect there is another round in the offing before I can try for sleep.
Alert: alcohol and drugs shouldn't be mixed. It's bad. And wrong. But I'll take the risk tonight with one of each if it means the pain that has me on the verge of tears eases up just a little.
Eh, it's not like you're approaching Elvis levels. (I mean, in general I oppose mixing booze and pills, but -- you're in pain, honey. Do it.)
t edit Cass, what drugs are you taking? Please tell me it's flexoril. That's the only muscle relaxer that's worth a damn.
I have a haircut appointment for 10 a.m. tomorrow -- it was the only appointment I could get for the next 2 weeks. When did my stylist get so popular? She and I are going to have a chat. But yay -- I will be de-fright-wig-ified!
It didn't work, Kristin.
Those of you who read James Thurber may remember that the one thing that didn't happen the night the bed fell was the bed actually falling. I have old twin beds that I've been moving around a lot because I was painting. Apparently the little metal doohicky that holds the frame together got loosened or knocked off in this process. I was leaning across the bed to put on the mattress pad and it collapsed. I wasn't even lying on the damn bed. My body has that "you're going to regret this in morning" feeling.
I'm so glad there are no video cameras in my house, although I suppose that could be the next great reality show: Ginger vs. Gravity.
This is getting ridiculous. Aimee's horrific bank card fraud, Ginger's vicious bed frame, Cass' poor back, GC's poor Gram, Fay's car...I'd go on, but it might give the Powers That Be more ideas.
t brandishes flaming sword
Be. Nice. To. My. Bitches. I don't know how to use this thing, and I'm liable to set something on fire.