I have taken away Bastet's throne. She is not a happy camper.
'Trash'
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.
Oh, just had a Chipotle Burrito in a bowl. So. GOOD!
And the fact that I had a free burrito coupon just made it better. As was the fact that I hadn't eaten since 5 yesterday afternoon.
Good GRIEF, Raq. That's about the worst day I've heard of in recent memory. How thoroughly vile.
I just want to be as unobtrusive as possible, and get through to August 20 quickly
perks up
Really? What are you going to be doing on my birthday?
I think I should make Fay my SO
Oooh, me too! I could phone you at work, and send you steamy emails! And threaten to whip his pansy ass good and proper if he messed with my woman!
Upon reflection, I think I shall eschew the Michael Savage site. I don't think I need any more bile, or any more depressing thoughts about Joe Q American Public.
I said, "Hot, gay cowboys, Silly."
Bingo! Loving the answer.
That's your bday, Fay?! I'm August 23rd. Woo. I'm a Lirgo!
Oh, just had a Chipotle Burrito in a bowl. So. GOOD!
That's good stuff.
Must be something in the air -- two completely unrelated forums today have mentioned Chipotle Burrito bowls. And now, of course, I must have one. Curse you, peer pressure!
I said, "Hot, gay cowboys, Silly."
Joe and I were watching Spiderman the other day. When he and Green Goblin were on the roof of whatever, and GG was trying to talk him into colaborating. At one point, GG caressed Spidey's face. I mumbled, "I wish I could quit you." I thought Joe wsa going pee himself laughing.
carnitas, green tomatillo and (eep) guac.
Did I say it was good? Because it bears repeating. Yum.
I don't know why wives can be so mean to husbands. The folks I stayed with in DC on the way home...well, let's just say I was extremely uncomfortable to be there. The wife kept harping on the husband that he has too much stuff (everything I saw was hers), drank a LOT, and was just generally verbally abusive. I mean, I know women don't have a lock on being mean, but it seems that husband abuse isn't taken very seriously.
Thank DOG I have a solid metric assload of work to do today, or I'd have a big huge rant on this and related subjects (mostly, what the general public considers an attack on husbands and men vs. the sort of giggly, snide dismissive contempt that so much of the culture actively encourages - and in which some of my meatspace friends indulge, getting huffy at my lack of humor if I don't participate - but that pings me as much crueler and more misandrist than any Berkeley-generated womynist ranting could ever be), with which I would bore all the Bitches silly (and probably make Hec want to flee screaming from my repetitiveness, as I already bored him silly with it on Saturday morning).
Lucky all y'all, spared my runon sentences and stale rantycakes!
Also, before I go back to the metric assload of work, (a) Cashmere = TEH AWESOME, and (b) Fay would make the most ass-kickin' fake Internet girlfriend ever. And probably the most ass-kickin' unfake real-life girlfriend ever too, at that.
Joe and I were watching Spiderman the other day. When he and Green Goblin were on the roof of whatever, and GG was trying to talk him into colaborating. At one point, GG caressed Spidey's face. I mumbled, "I wish I could quit you." I thought Joe wsa going pee himself laughing.
Ah, I love the smell of slash in the morning.
I cannot match the Mexican food recounting, but I can retaliate with the Thai food: red chicken curry, steamed rice, prawn toasts, prawn crackers, a glass of fresh cantaloup juice and a deep fried coconut-coated chocolate icecream, with pineapple.
mmmmmm....
eta
b) Fay would make the most ass-kickin' fake Internet girlfriend ever. And probably the most ass-kickin' unfake real-life girlfriend ever too, at that.
Go me! Although in truth I seem destined to be the most ass-kickin' maiden aunt ever. Which still occasionally makes me feel like I've had my heart scooped out, but then if I will persist in being reserved and self-conscious, and fail to get my arse down to the gym, then I really don't have room to bitch about it.
Crap! Sorry! Didn't see that little plummet into whineyness coming. We return you to your regularly scheduled perkiness.