The wind is whistling.
Natter 45: Smooth as Billy Dee Williams.
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.
A happy tune?
It's like a hurricane outside. Seriously. I wouldn't be surprised if they report 100mph wind gusts.
The wind feels afraid!!
It's the second crazy-ass storm today.
A windows-gonna-blow-in-a-sec tune.
Gronk. I stayed home sick from work, so taking a three hour nap is completely appropriate. And yet, I am now filled with gronk that I was not quite feeling, earlier...
So frigging weird to be in LA and be aware of a freak storm on the East Coast.
Anyway, back to Pierre, Franny learned the song because it is on the Really Rosie CD, and I am a child of the 70s so I play Really Rosie to her. But also because when she gets very worked up, Pierre is one of the few things that can reliably calm her down.
The octets are fine, you just can't count them.
shouldn't there be eight?
See, that's the problem. There are nine.
THE OCTETS ARE DATA-ING *INSIDE THE BUILDING*!!!
A windows-gonna-blow-in-a-sec tune.
Lash yourselves to the doorframes.
My coworkers.... OK, so we're outside and there is a squirrel scouring the patio for crumbs.
" Oh man, look at the nuts on that squirrel! They're huge!"
me: ponders for a moment if I really want to be a part of this conversation. Figures it is unavoidable. Looks at squirrel .
"Um, y'all? Those are boobs. It's a girl squirrel. With babies somewhere."