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Spike's Bitches 30: Going on Thirteen  

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[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.

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DavidS - Jun 04, 2006 1:38:18 pm PDT #7813 of 10002
"Look, son, if it's good enough for Shirley Bassey, it's good enough for you."

Right on! A's win on Rich Harden's return! (Though he only went 4, and Halsey got the win for going 5 innings). DJ homered too. They're 4-1 since Kendall homered and the one loss was 2-1 to Santana.

Emmett's grumping about going to play baseball so late on a Sunday. For us it's not as simple as tossing on a uniform fifteen minutes before warmups. This means we'll be gone from the house from 3:45 until 8 (or 9:30 if we go to our friend's house). It's a longish outing.

Last game of the regular season, then our triple-A tournament (double elim) starts on Tuesday.

JenP - Jun 04, 2006 1:41:50 pm PDT #7814 of 10002

I'd be grumping, too, if I were Emmett. But I hope the game goes well anyway.

Polter-Cow - Jun 04, 2006 1:48:41 pm PDT #7815 of 10002
What else besides ramen can you scoop? YOU CAN SCOOP THIS WORLD FROM DARKNESS!

(Also, when does PoTC open again?)

July 7.

Lee - Jun 04, 2006 1:55:57 pm PDT #7816 of 10002
The feeling you get when your brain finally lets your heart get in its pants.

(And don't EVEN tell me you don't own a thermometer....)

Um... I don't.

Sweetheart, I love you but -- if you're old enough to live on your own, you should have a thermometer. (That goes for all of you reading this.)

Umm... I don't suppose an oven thermometer counts, does it?

Cass - Jun 04, 2006 1:59:20 pm PDT #7817 of 10002
Bob's learned to live with tragedy, but he knows that this tragedy is one that won't ever leave him or get better.

Umm... I don't suppose an oven thermometer counts, does it?
Yes. When you reach an internal temperature of 135 degrees, you are done.

If you like medium-rare.

JenP - Jun 04, 2006 2:08:03 pm PDT #7818 of 10002

When you reach an internal temperature of 135 degrees, you are done.

Seriously done. For.

ChiKat - Jun 04, 2006 2:08:18 pm PDT #7819 of 10002
That man was going to shank me. Over an omelette. Two eggs and a slice of government cheese. Is that what my life is worth?

Umm... I don't suppose an oven thermometer counts, does it?

Oh! I have one of those!

I've never bothered buying a human thermometer because I can always tell when I'm running a fever.

Pix - Jun 04, 2006 2:08:46 pm PDT #7820 of 10002
We're all getting played with, babe. -Weird Barbie

Announcement: My apartment reeks.

Analysis: Dirty dishes in the sink + lingering litter box smell (despite having just cleaned it) + garbage under sink + 100 degrees = NASTYASSSMELLYAPARTMENT

I desperately want to clean, but I kid you not, it's so hot in here that I can't. I shall tackle teh STINK tonight.

sj - Jun 04, 2006 2:10:40 pm PDT #7821 of 10002
"There are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea."

I bought a thermometer with my last uti that may have been a kidney infection, because the only way my doctor would agree to let me go home was to agree to track my fever.

Cass - Jun 04, 2006 2:12:56 pm PDT #7822 of 10002
Bob's learned to live with tragedy, but he knows that this tragedy is one that won't ever leave him or get better.

Seriously done. For.
But if she has some horseradish lying about...

I am hungry. But probably not cannibal hungry.

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