Octopus!
Buffy: You tossed that vamp like he was a... little teeny vamp. Riley: You wanna go again? C'mon. I bet this place is just teeming with aerodynamic vampires.
'Help'
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.
Lee - Jan 05, 2006 1:45:28 pm PST #3400 of 10001
The feeling you get when your brain finally lets your heart get in its pants.
tommyrot - Jan 05, 2006 1:49:07 pm PST #3401 of 10001
Sir, it's not an offence to let your cat eat your bacon. Okay? And we don't arrest cats, I'm very sorry.
Occipital lobe!
Spidra Webster - Jan 05, 2006 1:53:37 pm PST #3402 of 10001
I wish I could just go somewhere to get flensed but none of the whaling ships near me take Medicare.
Ozymandias!
Steph L. - Jan 05, 2006 1:54:54 pm PST #3403 of 10001
It's actually been a really hard year, when you stop and do the math. Eliot would cry, too, if it didn't take him seventy minutes of therapy, two cocktails, and a Sondheim medley before he can experience a human emotion through the haze of his PTSD.
Ovulation!
DavidS - Jan 05, 2006 1:56:59 pm PST #3404 of 10001
"Look, son, if it's good enough for Shirley Bassey, it's good enough for you."
Ollie Ollie All Come Free!
Laura - Jan 05, 2006 1:57:49 pm PST #3405 of 10001
This too shall pass.
Oz
Spidra Webster - Jan 05, 2006 1:59:20 pm PST #3406 of 10001
I wish I could just go somewhere to get flensed but none of the whaling ships near me take Medicare.
O Susanna!
Ginger - Jan 05, 2006 2:00:00 pm PST #3407 of 10001
"It didn't taste good. It tasted soooo horrible. It tasted like....a vodka martini." - Matilda
Olfactory, Optical, Oculomotor
Cleaning would be much more inspiring if one were occasionally rewarded with a $100 gift certificate.
Steph L. - Jan 05, 2006 2:11:11 pm PST #3408 of 10001
It's actually been a really hard year, when you stop and do the math. Eliot would cry, too, if it didn't take him seventy minutes of therapy, two cocktails, and a Sondheim medley before he can experience a human emotion through the haze of his PTSD.
Ovaltine!
billytea - Jan 05, 2006 2:15:02 pm PST #3409 of 10001
You were a wrong baby who grew up wrong. The wrong kind of wrong. It's better you hear it from a friend.
Chicks dig cuttlefish!
Yeah, baby!