juliana, I'm glad you got to SF okay.
Spike's Bitches 28: For the Safety of Puppies...and Christmas!
[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.
Trudy, the shop people are asshats of the first order.
Hec, your home sounds fantastic.
...I don't know whether to marvel more at the attack Chihuahua pack or at the guy who is breaking into people's homes to add erotic Indian art screensavers to people's computers. But I support the latter in email. Or, you know, would if I had his email address. (Actually, I'd totally buy him a drink. He's like an NC17 Santa for the Naughty Noughties. Well done him.)
Meanwhile - HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! So far 2006 has featured free fireworks, Spy Hard (a movie which seemed, from the few minutes we saw, to be beyond execrable...although it had a girl who looked like Stephanie Romanov for a few minutes, which was nice) and a neatly averted house fire Chez Jay.
And so to bed.
eta
Crumbs. According to imdb it was Stephanie Romanov, back in 1996. Bless her. Poor lamb. Still, everyone has bills to pay.
I'm very much in favour of pretty fingers, Erika. And naughty counting games.
The guy that broke in to see porn on someone else's computer - my neighborhood. the attack of the ankle biters - my town.
so ... ummm... yeah.
Is it too early to be tipsy?
only if you have to be somewhere
Happy New Years, Fay Jay!
Alright, got all gussied up to go (including my new very pretty earrings), peroxided toe, bandaided it up... can barely fit in biggest shoe... cannot step without nearly squealing nebbermind walking on it all night NEBBERMIND dancing. Oy.
Called sister. Bailed. Watching Dick Clark, baby.
Oh and, The Communists invaded just as I was leaving. Fucking Communists. I think I'll send out for Chinese and treat myself to the good drugs.
Oh and, The Communists invaded just as I was leaving. Fucking Communists. I think I'll send out for Chinese and treat myself to the good drugs.
Sending out for more Communists?
It seemed fitting.
If once a month I was in pain because of the flush-water swirling the wrong way or everybody calling me Shelia I supposed I'd send out for something different.
Trudy, my sistah in solitariness! I'm sitting home with my latte and brownie, watching "Hooked on Drugs" on the History Channel. Not taking any, but wishing.
Is it beyond reasonable to be just a tad pissed that after pointing out the tray of brownies I wanted one from, the sales clerk at Starbucks gave me the wrong kind? I mean, it's a very good brownie, but it's not the flavor of brownie I wanted, that my tastebuds craved, nay--demanded! I guess I will have to go drown my sorrows with some of the booze I've got stashed around my house. What should I have? Sherry, Drambuie, Prairie Fume (a smoky white wine), Essencia (an orange liqeur) or should I open the Prosecco to make Kir Royales? Decisions, decisions.