There should really be an all-girl punk band named Angry Boobs.
Sweetie, we're crooks. If everything were right, we'd be in jail.
Wash ,'Serenity'
Spike's Bitches 31: We're Motivated Go-getters.
[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.
Pix - Jun 27, 2006 1:48:20 pm PDT #2101 of 10001
We're all getting played with, babe. -Weird Barbie
Atropa - Jun 27, 2006 1:48:32 pm PDT #2102 of 10001
The artist formerly associated with cupcakes.
No way I've ever had double digits on that measurement.
I've had double-digits on that measurement since puberty. In fact, right now I think I have a 13" difference between my waist & hips.
You will survive the apocalypse. Bless you.
Yay, survival!
Happy happy birthday, JZ! And happy anniversary, Sparky!
(I've missed other people's birthdays and anniversaries, I just know it. I have been skip & skim girl lately. The big evil work deadline that we laid to rest? Has regenerated and is lurching around as a new evil. Goodbye, any notions of free time I may have once cherished. It was lovely having you visit.)
Amy - Jun 27, 2006 1:49:28 pm PDT #2103 of 10001
Because books.
JZ, have you tried Target? They have cute Liz Lange maternity stuff for really pretty cheap. I lived in it with Sara.
::sneaks over to make out with Maria::
sumi - Jun 27, 2006 1:51:05 pm PDT #2104 of 10001
Art Crawl!!!
Nice to see the sky get gloomier and gloomier the closer it gets to be time for me to walk home.
Maria - Jun 27, 2006 1:52:03 pm PDT #2105 of 10001
Not so nice is that I'm about to ruin a Friday morning for a bunch of people because of a series of unfortunate events and an upset foreign government. - shrift
::sneaks over to make out with Maria::
If this is the way you people talk down individuals bent on death and destruction, I like it.
You make commence with the making out.
Pix - Jun 27, 2006 1:54:43 pm PDT #2106 of 10001
We're all getting played with, babe. -Weird Barbie
Hey wait! I thought I was the Boss of Everything!
Hm. Typing that caused me some stress. I think I'll remember the HAPPY creed: "A stressed worker is an unproductive worker."
t climbs back into hammock
P.M. Marc - Jun 27, 2006 1:55:19 pm PDT #2107 of 10001
So come, my friends, be not afraid/We are so lightly here/It is in love that we are made; In love we disappear
JZ, I give you the secret I'd have killed to've known about when knocked up: baby consignment stores. Seriously--best maternity selection I've ever been able to find. It's also helped my nursing wardrobe.
Amy - Jun 27, 2006 1:56:15 pm PDT #2108 of 10001
Because books.
If this is the way you people talk down individuals bent on death and destruction, I like it.
Me, too.
I'm scheming death and destruction for ... my in-laws. I can't help it. If the old man saves the useless, un-re-closeable bag from one more cereal box, or leaves the already-dribbled-on toilet seat up one more time, or turns up Rush Fucking Limbaugh to decibel levels that could be heard on Mars, I will lose. my. shit.
Don't even get me started on Crazy!BiL. He ... No, I can't even type it out. The kitchen knives are far too close at hand.
JZ - Jun 27, 2006 1:57:02 pm PDT #2109 of 10001
See? I gave everybody here an opportunity to tell me what a bad person I am and nobody did, because I fuckin' rule.
The only Target really close to me has exactly four racks of Liz Lange, one of which is bathing suits and one of which is t-shirts on clearance. I do pilfer the remaining two racks whenever I get a chance, but it's slim pickings indeed.
The big evil work deadline that we laid to rest? Has regenerated and is lurching around as a new evil.
That's unpossible, and grossly unfair. It already chewed you up and spit you out once. Stake it! Burn it, bury the ashes and salt the earth!
Sparky1 - Jun 27, 2006 1:58:07 pm PDT #2110 of 10001
Librarian Warlord
JZ, one of the stores on College over here on my side of the Bay is supposed to have the mostest bestest bra fitter ever for pregnant women with the big angry bazungas. So sayeth my office mate who had them in double letters that were so large as to be meaningless to flat-chested people like me, but she traded the pregancy bazungas in for nice twin boys, one of whom likes to scream, "LOUD!" as loud as he can. I can ask her the name of her savior, if you like.