Still up. Sleep is flirty wiyh me but it's not frings in the bar and then you are going home together.
'Our Mrs. Reynolds'
Spike's Bitches 30: Going on Thirteen
[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.
Poor Cass!
I just found a perfect apartment. It doesn't say how much it costs, though. So, I'm askeered to call and ask.
vw, call! It might be perfect! (It's so easy to be optimistic for someone else.)
I'm gonna...at 8am. It looks like it's about three to four blocks from the T station, which isn't too bad. There are no pictures, so I don't know what it looks like, but it sure sounds nice. It's got a private, fenced-in back yard! Toto could have a back yard! I could have BBQs!
I'm betting it's about $2,000 a month. Just a guess...
Well, I was right on with my guesstimate. The apartment would be about $2,000. They haven't actually decided on a price yet, but he said it would be around that. Oh, well. I had to call...
(Would that be Wallybubs? Billybees? Mole rats!)
Wallyteas.
I need someone to smite Not!Emily for me. Or a good curse would work too.
And while you're at it, smite the cockroaches so I don't have to do all this prep work for tomorrow.
Could we sic the cockroaches on Not!Emily? He'd have to spend the next hour or seven killing them, which would be punishment and practical.
It would probably just prove his point.
He's not helping with anything today, because "it's pointless. You can't get rid of cockroaches."
So, this is my problem. I get to get everything ready. I'm so angry I could spit.
Wow. Sounds like Not!Emily's a real jackass.