OK, that Editor, Station manager at KFKD. Bitch.
There are cockroaches in Mexico big enough to own property.
Cordelia ,'Lessons'
The Great Write Way
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
erikaj - Feb 08, 2005 11:02:08 am PST #9841 of 10001
Always Anti-fascist!
Beverly - Feb 08, 2005 11:19:28 am PST #9842 of 10001
Days shrink and grow cold, sunlight through leaves is my song. Winter is long.
And then there's my crew, with the machetes and the weedwhackers. Love them.
Nutty - Feb 08, 2005 11:45:08 am PST #9843 of 10001
"Mister Spock is on his fanny, sir. Reports heavy damage."
I think we call Gus's version of an editor a superego.
The other kind does not fall into a Freudian category.
erikaj - Feb 08, 2005 11:47:17 am PST #9844 of 10001
Always Anti-fascist!
I think you're right, Nutty.
Gus - Feb 08, 2005 12:04:50 pm PST #9845 of 10001
Bag the crypto. Say what is on your mind.
What is the Freudian category for "Mom"?
Electra notwithstanding?
I dont think that guy liked mothers, so much.
deborah grabien - Feb 08, 2005 12:18:06 pm PST #9846 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
Sometimes the desire to simultaneously strangle and have sex with one's mama is just a cigar...
Gus - Feb 08, 2005 12:23:57 pm PST #9847 of 10001
Bag the crypto. Say what is on your mind.
Me Mum smoked cigars, on occasion.
That probably explains ...
...something.
deborah grabien - Feb 08, 2005 12:29:50 pm PST #9848 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
That probaly explains ...
...something.
But can you drabble it, whatever it is?
deborah grabien - Feb 08, 2005 5:25:52 pm PST #9849 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
The Bi-Polarism of Personal History
This is the distinction I never wanted to make.
Here I am, broken but vital; you've gone back to clay. I'm serene in my anger, your anger is now the calm of the grave. You're nice and safe in the middle of nowhere, while I, left behind, try to find the still core of that pretty safety. Instead, I find curving paths, high hedges, eyes that watch, jungle noises. There are monsters here.
Once we were as one, or so I believed: your yang to my yin. Now I hunger in the sunlight, and you? The opposite of light.
WildDemon Cornelius - Feb 08, 2005 6:11:30 pm PST #9850 of 10001
Take your fingers off it, don't you dare touch it, you know it don't belong to you, to you...
Just wondering, how exactly does drabble work? Just...write a short piece on the given topic and post it?