vw, you can make it. I am sending make it vibes cross country right now.
Makeitmakeitmakeit.
Juliana, if none of Jilli's work, I have a few I can throw in for you, as well.
The Mayor ,'End of Days'
[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.
vw, you can make it. I am sending make it vibes cross country right now.
Makeitmakeitmakeit.
Juliana, if none of Jilli's work, I have a few I can throw in for you, as well.
I had a dream last night that I gave someone a ring. Maybe it was juliana. I'll have to poke through my jewelry box and see if something needs to belong to her.
I also had a dream I was tightening my corset via the doorknob method. I have no idea why I just remembered that.
Wait, are they those Futurama brain worms where you suddenly get all smart and charming and get your life together? Cause I could use a case of those.
No, these are Invader Zim brain worms. They make you stupider.
Feel free to inquire of anybody whose actions are profoundly stupid: "HAVE YOU THE BRAIN WORMS!?!"
"HAVE YOU THE BRAIN WORMS!?!"
What's funny is that, in my head, I can hear *you*, not Zim, saying that.
Feel free to inquire of anybody whose actions are profoundly stupid: "HAVE YOU THE BRAIN WORMS!?!"
It works best if you wait a few seconds and then follow up with "YOU! OBEY THE FIST!"
I begin to see the problem. Clearly, someone gave me the wrong brain worms.
Right now my boss has some kind of brain worms. She can't even send me an ordinary question type email without sounding like a raving bitca.
She should take her surly sinusitis self back home and soak her head until she's safe for human company.
Curses. I wished blinding, searing-pain-inducing sinusitis on her yesterday, but I could've sworn I included STAYING THE FUCK HOME in that wish.
I'm really sorry, honey.
I am wrongly irritated with my grandma.
She hasn't finished the obit to put it in any of the papers. She said she knew she was avoiding it because it was the last thing and it seemed so final, and I couldn't IMAGINE having to write and submit an obit for Joe, but...I want to read it and share it and maybe start to heal myself.
I am a horrid cow.
Why don't you offer to do it for her, Aimee?
She might like reading it from another perspective and she could make changes as necessary. It'd likely take a burden off her.