Fay, hand us a bikkit!
Atherton: Half the men in this room wish you were on their arm, tonight. Inara: Only half. I must be losing my indefinable allure.
'Shindig'
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.
Pete, Husband of Jilli - Apr 13, 2006 1:20:34 pm PDT #9256 of 10001
"I've got a gun! I've got a mother-flippin' gun!" - Moss, The IT Crowd
Fay - Apr 13, 2006 1:22:14 pm PDT #9257 of 10001
"Fuck Western ideologically-motivated gender identification!" Sulu gasped, and came.
cracks open new packet of chocolate digestives.
Pete, Husband of Jilli - Apr 13, 2006 1:30:41 pm PDT #9258 of 10001
"I've got a gun! I've got a mother-flippin' gun!" - Moss, The IT Crowd
Plain or Milk? Now to find out which side of the digestive-divide you stand on.
Aims - Apr 13, 2006 1:30:58 pm PDT #9259 of 10001
Shit's all sorts of different now.
My tatoo is itchy.
I want to scratch it.
§ ita § - Apr 13, 2006 1:31:26 pm PDT #9260 of 10001
Well not canonically, no, but this is transformative fiction.
plain
Fay - Apr 13, 2006 1:31:59 pm PDT #9261 of 10001
"Fuck Western ideologically-motivated gender identification!" Sulu gasped, and came.
...milk.
But plain for Hobnobs.
Lee - Apr 13, 2006 1:34:37 pm PDT #9262 of 10001
The feeling you get when your brain finally lets your heart get in its pants.
I want to scratch it.
YOU MUST NOT SCRATCH. YOU MUST CHILL.
Aims - Apr 13, 2006 1:35:22 pm PDT #9263 of 10001
Shit's all sorts of different now.
WANT TO SCRATCH!
Pete, Husband of Jilli - Apr 13, 2006 1:35:48 pm PDT #9264 of 10001
"I've got a gun! I've got a mother-flippin' gun!" - Moss, The IT Crowd
Ooh, sorry Fay, I'm with ita on this one. Oh the horrors! The Montagues and Capulets have nothing on the digestive-divide.
Though your plea for clemency with the Hob-Nobs might save you from me getting all Tybalt on yo' ass.
Lee - Apr 13, 2006 1:37:07 pm PDT #9265 of 10001
The feeling you get when your brain finally lets your heart get in its pants.
WANT TO SCRATCH!
DO.NOT.SCRATCH.