Good luck, vw! I hope it's better than you remember!
~ma for Dallas.
What. A. Day. Network down, meetings running long, and only two of us here trying to juggle everything. We deserve a medal. We deserve a medal made of Teh Booze.
[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.
Good luck, vw! I hope it's better than you remember!
~ma for Dallas.
What. A. Day. Network down, meetings running long, and only two of us here trying to juggle everything. We deserve a medal. We deserve a medal made of Teh Booze.
We deserve a medal. We deserve a medal made of Teh Booze.
You really do.
Just don't Juliana give it to you. She has too many rules.
I have the capability of making penguin-shaped jello shots. I need to do that sometime.
Sometime? I think tonight is that time.
I have the capability of making penguin-shaped jello shots. I need to do that sometime.
How could you have kept this from us for so long?
I have the capability of making penguin-shaped jello shots. I need to do that sometime.
You really do, and you need to share.
Hey, have you made lots of twinkies?
I forgot. I should probably mix some ginkgo biloba in.
I haven't made any twinkies
::hangs head in shame::
Stupid diet.
At long last, I've passed an important gestational milestone... I've finally been the recipient of a series of completely inane remarks by a total stranger.
Getting onto the elevator just now. Older man smiles broadly at me and says, "Well, look at you! You must have swallowed a watermelon seed!"
"Um, yeah, looks like," I said, because I am reflexively polite and responsive to grandpa-aged men.
"Didn't your mother teach you that you have to spit them out?"
"Um, well, I know that now," I said lamely, while every woman in the elevator rolled her eyes and every other man tried to pretend he was on another elevator in another state.
"Ha-ha, when I was a little boy that's what my mother always told me would happen if I swallowed a watermelon seed!" [Please, God, shut me the fuck up before I say something awful about spitting vs. swallowing] "But I'm not such a little boy anymore, and I know it takes a little bit more than a watermelon seed to make that happen, ha-ha!" And he stared at me with an indescribable grandfatherly leer on his face as though I were supposed to say something in response to that.
Which I didn't. But I thought, "You are so right, sir -- actually, it was my husband's cock." And then for one horrible, frozen moment, the terrible conviction washed over me that in fact I had said it, out loud and all. Which, apparently not, as I'm here at my desk and not being fired and frogmarched off campus.
It was an interesting experience. I suppose I can look forward to more of them, and more inane, as I expand. Whee!
Just don't Juliana give it to you. She has too many rules.
Say WHAT? I only have rules for my hypothetical roadhouse, and they mostly apply to my ability to pour said drink and drool over Christian Kane at the same time. I happily pour whatever people want in my actual bar. Well, whatever the law allows me to pour, so you can blame crazy-ass California for those rules....
In conclusion, Fernet.