I just might. You available Saturday?
Spike's Bitches 29: That sure as hell wasn't in the brochure.
[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.
I had a bizarre dream about meeting Hec the other night. He was a she!!!
My secret's out! Was I cute?
Everybody (looks at Fay) has to stop apologizing for posting. Particularly (looks at Fay) if they're going to share such beautiful writing. But really any posting.
I want a moratorium on apologizing before posting for this entire week. If you really must say you're sorry just say...."round stick" instead. And then only if you're apologizing to somebody in particular. "Teppy, I'm round stick that I called you at 6am on Sunday morning and woke you up."
I am drinking delicious homemade beer. If I had me some succulent babies, I would be set for dinner.
Though, I am round stick to say, it's mean to give someone just one bottle of homemade beer when it turns out to be delicious.
I believe that that person? Might be dead. ;) In which case we'd have a whole memorial to pass the round stick. But I catch your meaning, Hecubus.
Just one beer?
Wretches.
I just might. You available Saturday?
I could be. Shall I arrange to be?
Just the one. And I don't even know who made the beer to begin with. A friend of P's DH. If he's single, Ima date him for the beer on tap.
gronk.
Back home. Caught up. Skimmed.
Spent 11 hours at work again, because I couldn't stop helping people.
Got to drive home in daylight, tho. Woo!
Came home and did our mountain of dishes, scrubbed the sink, started some laundry, cooked 7 pounds of hamburger for chili and such. Chatted online and ate supper sna did those dishes.
I should probably sleep soon, but milady is not home yet, and with both our schedules this weekend, I only got to smooch her twice since Friday night....
I may have to nap on the couch.
Last night with Andi gone until 3 am, I couldn't stand Harvey's plaintive wails at the bedroom door. I let him into the bedroom after I took my claritin and other drugs.
Big mistake.
He spent at least an hour ramming his head into my face, and Sammy came in and rummaged through my stuff. I'ma have to cat proof another room.
Oh bother, I'm getting loopy. I just came up with a plot for a Pinky and the Brain story. PaTB time travel to October 1938 and cause Orson Welles to have laryngitis, and Brain decides to take over Orson Welles' broadcast, and punch it up a bit. Pinky accidentally cures Orson Just in time to save the radio drama from paving the way for world dominance by The Brain.
This episode may have actually been an episode, tho. My brain? sleepy.
My brain? sleepy.
I feel for you, Daniel. It's 11 here and I'm just now going home from work. Only to be back bright and early tomorrow. I'm leaving early tomorrow and no on can stop me, dammit.
I've got my fingers crossed that I get to board my 9:02 flight to LA by Midnight.