He abruptly quit eating and is really sick, Sophia. If you mean an update, don't have one yet.
Natter .44 Magnum: Do You Feel Chatty, Punk?
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
I have to confess to having had a Stern Talk with Homer last night about never getting sick.
ita, I sent the url for the new website to Cybervixen and she thinks that you should add her favorite, Audrey Hepburn.
There's some old colleague visiting the Sales Guy who shares my cube area.
Old Colleague has called our receptionist "the little gal" twice.
We have all seen his website, right?
Man I hate that guy. I would never eat at a restaurant he owned. I'd be lectured about my food so long that I'd die of starvation first. That crap belongs as a blurb on the menu, that I can read or not, if I friggin' want to.
sarameg, sending good vibes to Mr. Kitty. I hate it when pets get sick. In a weird way, it upsets me more than when people do. I guess it's because the pets can't talk, and we can't explain to them what's going on. They just have to trust us. And so often they do, which really amazes me.
I love Audrey Hepburn. Those are great pictures. I want some elbow-length gloves like in that fourth picture. Does anyone know where one might find such things?
Sean, that's the kind of talk that's holding back the restaurant industry from being elevated to lofty heights of cuilnary excellence beyond the wildest imaginings of mere mortals like us.
Old Colleague has called our receptionist "the little gal" twice.
OMG KICK HIM IN THE GROIN
Sorry. Having been called "sweetheart" several times by a couple of condescending fuckwits at work (and having narrowly stopped myself from launching myself at their jugular like some flying vampire squirrel), I have zero tolerance for crap like that.
Clearly Jess, I am not fit to lick the man's boots, let alone be allowed in his restaurant.
AND THANK DOG FOR THAT!
Having been called "sweetheart" several times by a couple of condescending fuckwits at work (and having narrowly stopped myself from launching myself at their jugular like some flying vampire squirrel), I have zero tolerance for crap like that.
I find that a looooooooong pause with sustained eye contact and a polite "I'm sorry, were you talking to me?" tends to make them stop. But, only if they were doing it inadvertently.