how scary and awful and completely random. Just some lunatic suicide
That's the worst part. Just, GAH.
'Hell Bound'
[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.
how scary and awful and completely random. Just some lunatic suicide
That's the worst part. Just, GAH.
I find it HIGH-larious that each Buffista mom has their favorite baby clothes maker. I'm such a Gymboree Whore.
It's totally hilarious! I thought I'd be a GW, but no, Hanna ate me alive. Mainly because all the GW stuff I loved failed in the wash and wear department. (Hello to the Prim and Proper line!)
Sean, they were actually shot while standing in the parking lot, so not flying at the time. Unfortunately, it's not unsual for us to hear about pilots who have become targets while in the air for people with guns, but it usually turns out to be some not-thinking kid with an air rifle. This time, not so much.
(eta: there are more details in my LJ than in the news reports)
brenda, I hope it resolves itself!
((((Sean)))) ((((Cashmere)))) And, seconding what Aimee said.
Egad, JZ.
Good luck, Calli!
Oooh, thanks Plei! And I will be looking at the Gymboree cupcake stuff, too, Aims! CU-CAKES!
Also, ((((Sparky and family))))
Right now, I'm a Petite Fleur Whore. I love that whole collection.
$4100 just for the privilege of staying in a room overnight? The mind boggles. Here I thought a $300 night at the Fairmont was pricey. The really scary part of this story is that those are the prices charged to insured patients, and lots of places have different, much higher rates for the uninsured. If I should become ill, I expect that will mean that all my money will disappear with a small, pitiful whooshing noise, and then a giant mountain of debt will smother what's left of me.
People are shooting at hang gliders? What a craptastic hobby.
In Much Better News: I had a phone call last night. Looks like we're going to have another niece or nephew in May or so. My youngest cousin is feeling virile and proud of his aim, and I am thinking, but I remember carrying you around when you were little, how can you possibly be old enough to reproduce? Eeek! I'm old!
Then I got another phone call from my high school buddy who's been widowed recently. Three hours of drunken telephone counseling and cameraderie and being awake till 2 am has left me a tired and cranky mess who really, really doesn't want to go on another job interview today. I don't want to handle paperwork concerning severely emotionally disturbed youth. I don't want those sad stories clogging up my forebrain.
While I am horrified, disgusted, and outraged at JZ's hospital bill, I just have to say...
The Halloweenie? Worth. Every. Penny.
At least now we have an estimate of her market value.