Cabil wears his hair in a braid. [link]
Like any of that's enough to fight the Dark Master. Bator.
Xander ,'Lessons'
Literary Buffistas 3: Don't Parse the Blurb, Dear.
There's more to life than watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer! No. Really, there is! Honestly! Here's a place for Buffistas to come and discuss what it is they're reading, their favorite authors and poets. "Geez. Crack a book sometime."
DXMachina - Mar 23, 2006 3:26:30 am PST #225 of 28061
You always do this. We get tipsy, and you take advantage of my love of the scientific method.
brenda m - Mar 23, 2006 3:28:09 am PST #226 of 28061
If you're going through hell/keep on going/don't slow down/keep your fear from showing/you might be gone/'fore the devil even knows you're there
And as I think someone mentioned, I've seen Drew in a french braid, and it didn't look half bad. And by that I mean porn.
Atropa - Mar 23, 2006 1:45:31 pm PST #227 of 28061
The artist formerly associated with cupcakes.
Oh ... dear. I've discovered the problem with casually mentioning that I read vampire novels to one of my co-workers. She is now loaning me books. Which, usually, I'd be all for. But I suspect her taste in supernatural fiction is not mine. I found Wolf at the Door sitting on my desk this morning. The back cover blub header says (in yellow and all caps) "When danger meets desire ..."
Who do I blame for the proliferation of the paranormal/supernatural romance genre? Because I've read very few that don't make me roll my eyes.
JZ - Mar 23, 2006 1:50:19 pm PST #228 of 28061
See? I gave everybody here an opportunity to tell me what a bad person I am and nobody did, because I fuckin' rule.
Jilli, are you mad?
Sullivan Quinn didn’t travel 3,000 miles from his native Ireland and his wolf pack just to chase rabidly after the most delectable quarry he’s ever seen. Quinn is in America on a mission—to warn his Other brethren of a shadowy group willing to use murder and mayhem to bring them down. But one whiff of this Foxwoman’s delicious honeysuckle fragrance and he knows that she is more than a colleague or a conquest…she is his mate.
This may possibly be the greatest novel ever written! (In exactly the same way that Snakes On A Plane is poised to become the greatest film ever made.)
P.M. Marc - Mar 23, 2006 1:51:30 pm PST #229 of 28061
So come, my friends, be not afraid/We are so lightly here/It is in love that we are made; In love we disappear
Hey, Jilli, did you ever read the one I gave you?
Atropa - Mar 23, 2006 1:52:40 pm PST #230 of 28061
The artist formerly associated with cupcakes.
Hey, Jilli, did you ever read the one I gave you?
No, it's still sitting on the "to be read" stack. I occasionally look at the cover and giggle, is that enough?
DavidS - Mar 23, 2006 1:58:30 pm PST #231 of 28061
"Look, son, if it's good enough for Shirley Bassey, it's good enough for you."
But one whiff of this Foxwoman’s delicious honeysuckle fragrance and he knows that she is more than a colleague or a conquest…she is his mate.
Is this by the psychic oceleot romance writer?
meara - Mar 23, 2006 4:09:57 pm PST #232 of 28061
Maybe not a white guy, but I bet you've seen a picture of a rapper, say, with them.
Generally not in a single one, though.
I do accept that I wouldn't actually point and laugh. Well, I might point and laugh at ND, but probably not because of his hair. Nonetheless, it's a pretty unusual style for a guy (a single braid? Totally normal for a guy with long hair. French braid? Pretty darn unusual. Trying to say the french braid makes it look like short hair? Um)
DavidS - Mar 23, 2006 4:20:45 pm PST #233 of 28061
"Look, son, if it's good enough for Shirley Bassey, it's good enough for you."
French braid? Pretty darn unusual.
Said the drag king.
DavidS - Mar 23, 2006 10:21:01 pm PST #234 of 28061
"Look, son, if it's good enough for Shirley Bassey, it's good enough for you."
Something literary from the NYTimes review of a new book, Flapper.
If "Flapper" does ascribe the birth of the jazz age to the nubile young Zelda Sayre, Fitzgerald's future bride — whose taste for mischief once led her to pin mistletoe to her derrière — it soon moves on to other examples. Consider the quaint courtroom case of Eugenia Kelly, a 19-year-old heiress whose mother, Helen Kelly, feared that Eugenia had become the victim of a "tango pirate" and was "likely to become depraved." For Miss Kelly an inheritance was at stake, and it trumped the tango pirate's charms. But for other, less privileged American changelings, there was every reason to abandon old ideas of decorum and sample the jazziest of the new.
It is a sad comment on our society that so few aspire to be tango pirates anymore.