Date was fine last night. Went to a place up (but we live on the highest hill in the city, so down? Or up-down-up?) in Crown Hill that we haven't been to in a number of years. Turns out they had changed management and their menu, but that was a good thing in the end. Before, everything had massive globs of goat cheese, and I am not a fan of massive globs of goat cheese. Now, they use less goat cheese and spread it around.
It was the waitress' birthday yesterday. She looked to be a low-to-mid twentysomething, though I didn't ask her age. The whole night kept thinking she was the personification of a Seattle native, complete with creaky voice and Canadian-lite vowels.
We saw Corpse Bride. It's a mashup of Edwardia, Victoriana, and Dia De Los Muertos. Simple plot which you've figured out fifteen minutes in, but it's pretty, Gothy, and very much a fairy tale. And the cast list reads like a who's-who of English acting -- even Paul Whitehouse shows up.
Annabel hung with a Buffista lurker and her four year old daughter. She was good, though she continued to get in to everything she possibly could. But she was fine, and didn't cry when we left. She was happy and inflappable the whole night but bouncy when we came back.
All in all, a good date. We should try to do this more than once every six months.
Also, Daniel and Andi are making me miss my cat. Harvey sounds like quite the snuggler.
It's what he does, and he does it well.
dw, I wouldn't be doing my job as a porny pants if I neglected to point out that your "great date" and "susan's back is out" posts were in provocatively close chronological proximity to one another.
Went to a place up (but we live on the highest hill in the city, so down? Or up-down-up?) in Crown Hill
From where you are, I'd say over, and avoid the pesky up-down issue.
Uh, her shoulder is out, not her back. So I'm not to blame.
But it's her right shoulder and neck, the side she mouses on. If you want to be porny, blame the intellectual orgy that is Buffistas.
Andi, with a chuckle after sprinkling catnip on an ottoman:
"I love drugging my cats."
I wouldn't be doing my job as a porny pants
I processed this as you saying you didn't want to be a porny pants, and I was all, "It's not like Trudy to play with a newbie's mind."
Yes. But Trudy, you're
Super
Porny Pants. So...
And I did not know your brother was that tall. And they're all so tall.
It has really skewed what I think of as "tall."
And the thought is turning me on just the tiniest bit.
You're trying to outgross me from the Cartman thing here? Cause it's working.
I have time to go make food between races if I skip the post-race interiews until later.
And I think puppycat was only snuggling with me because I am warm. She stole my heating pad when I got up and looks quite content.
and I was all, "It's not like Trudy to play with a newbie's mind."
True. She's pretty forthcoming with the porniness of the pants.
But it's her right shoulder and neck, the side she mouses on. But if you want to be porny, blame the intellectual orgy that is Buffistas.
I can think of a good half-dozen amorous ways to achieve that injury. Just throw your chest out man, drink a beer, spit or something. You flexoralled the woman.
