Fuckers. NO GOLD STAR FOR THEM! {{{vw}}}
Thanks guys. I'ma go home and drown myself in tacos.
[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.
Fuckers. NO GOLD STAR FOR THEM! {{{vw}}}
Thanks guys. I'ma go home and drown myself in tacos.
Nope. Parents thought they had told me. They just saw him and the baby at the family reunion last weekend.
Oh, man. You got a double gut punch, then. Oh honey, I think Taco drownage sounds right.
Some days I hate doctors and pharmacies and health insurance companies. This is just bull shit. 10 FREAKING DAYS AGO, I tried to refill my meds. Two of them came back that they needed prior authorization. The pharmacy has called the necessary doctors' offices twice, and it's still coming back as prior authorization necessary. So, either BOTH doctors haven't done their jobs or the health insurance company is fucking up. But, at any rate, I need my meds. I've been off them for four days, and one of them is my anti-d. The pharmacy wasn't going to give me any more to hold me over, but I begged and cried. They gave me three days worth. Hopefully I can get some samples from my doctor when I call him tomorrow to yell at him.
UGH! Dammit.
Recovery~ma to Laura's MiL. Glad to hear the procedure went well.
{{Teppy}} Heart~ma to the dad.
{{Aimee}} Very sad making. I hope the tacos do whatever you hope they will do. I don't know if you can drown in tacos, but clearly we could bury you as if you were in sand with just your head sticking out. Then we could let Em feed you the tacos. Wonder how that would turn out?
Aimee, I'm really sorry. That's awful news to come out of the blue.
Last night I dreamt that pretty much everyone, including myself, was dying of radiation sickness or something. I have a couple of stresses and disappointments in my life right now, but really nothing that warrants this sort of reaction. My subconscious is apparently a huge drama queen.
Recovery~ma to Laura's MiL. Glad to hear the procedure went well.This. I meant to say this but I am a total git today.
Not sure how happy the BiL is to be going into treatment. Apparently he did a detox after the fourth of July and Friday was him falling off the wagon. So, as of talking to my sister at 2:30 a.m. at a Shell station when we transferred the nephew back to her after the allergic reaction to my cats, now his only chance with her is if he does a 30-day treatment.
But it is voluntary and treatment for his addiction, so it's a damn good start.
I'm sorry - you need 30 qualifying trips and 50,000 miles in order to use the teleporter once.I just tripped 75K, that's a trip and a one-way! Gimme!
Some days I hate doctors and pharmacies and health insurance companies.That is awful! I have loads of righteous anger that I can direct towards them if you want.
There is potential drowning in tacos in my future as well.
My subconscious is apparently a huge drama queen.Oh, that reminds me. I need to water my basil whenever I finally get home.
huge drama queen
She wouldn't happen to be named Prisilla, would she?
Aimee, that sucks.
Insomnia was really the pits last night. Didn't fall asleep until after 5. Got a nap in this afternoon, but still tired.
I envy my cats.
Oh, that reminds me. I need to water my basil whenever I finally get home.
I seek insights into the mind of Cass. How does my drama queen of a subconscious remind you to water the basil? Is it dying of radiation sickness?
She wouldn't happen to be named Prisilla, would she?
No, no, drama queen, not drag queen.
drama queen, not drag queen
Judging by most movies I've seen of drag queens, these terms are synonymous. Embrace your inner Patrick Swayze, bt.
Judging by most movies I've seen of drag queens, these terms are synonymous. Embrace your inner Patrick Swayze, bt.
Lord no. My sister, for instance, is only one of the above (not Patrick Swayze).
My dream world was dying of radiation sickness, and did not look fabulous doing so.