Mark your calandars!
Cephalopodmas falls on December 22nd by the human calendar! Get your special squamous someone something fetid!
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Also, Cephalopodmas carols:
On the first day of Cephalopodmas,
Cthulhu gave to me
Histioteuthis heteropsis.
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Also, there's a war on Cephalopodmas
I have to say, though, that the continuing neglect of this important holiday by the media is another sign of the War on Cephalopodmas. Don't believe me? Walk into your local Wal-Mart, and I promise you that the greeter won't say "Merry Cephalopodmas!" to you. You won't see any civic displays draped with tentacles. The school pageants won't be full of songs about squid. The smell of kelp won't be in the air, nor will you be hearing the mournful, melodious tones of the foghorn. Outrageous, isn't it?
I want everyone this year to give their best Bill O'Reilly glare to anyone you meet who doesn't affirm your personal beliefs with a verbal recognition of the validity of Cephalopodmas. Temper tantrums are good, too. Of course, it should go without saying that you shouldn't have to explain why you're walking around always looking so pissed-off; truth be told, when you have to explain that you're upset because people aren't reciting some ritualized formal greeting at you, you sound a bit like a pinhead. So don't.
Did I miss something? Is there any reason anyone would think she does?
The argument the group makes in the email I got is that she's not just a fringe nutjob, she's also a bestselling author.
And did I mention scared?
Courage, my girl! Remember, it's just an email.
Did he ask questions you could answer? Is he local? Couls you ask him if he's been X place or Y museum, or something you love that could start a conversation?
Also, I don't know who I am to give advice. I married a guy I met at 17. If I had to date now, I'd probably crawl into a cave.
Hmmm... I haven't replied to a online personals ad in a while. Usually I resort to my off-the-wall humor. So if the woman isn't charmed, at least she'll be confused....
Oh yeah, brenda, just do it! Send the email! It's no big thing, I swear
I'm wearing a scarf I haven't in over a year and....I must've been wearing perfume last time I wore it. Except, it doesn't smell like any perfume or smelly that I own. It's distracting. It's not as if my scarves have secret lives or something.
Maybe you have a secret life.
Brenda, you've got nothing to lose. Go do it. Say anything.
Flea, you've made me want to proof my room for things I don't want seen after my demise. Except I'm boring enough to not have anything like that.
I had strange but not-quite-depressing dreams about stuff that's kept me on tenterhooks for days. Brains are silly.
It's not as if my scarves have secret lives or something.
Like they'd tell you if they did. It is called a
secret
life for a reason.
I have a blueberry scone!
Well... had.
Did it have the emotional maturity of Sunnydale!Wesley?