I seem to remember someone doing a QAF piece awhile back, and posting it here. And damn, I can't remember who or when. Maybe my brain is draining out....

That was me.

SA, have I had the chance to read that before? Because it reads as something I already know, and like. I do like it, btw. It's very evocative and intense.

Yup. I started it months ago and stuck a bit of it in here.

Thanks for your kind words.

Ne lisez pas le mauvais fic!

Putain de merde! Je me suis fait malade avec ca! L'histoire est tellement... mauvais.

Shameless self-whoring:

Sometime in the last 12 hours my website's main page got it's 10,000th hit. It's been up for almost a year and a half, and 10,000 hits in that time is nothing to make bigtime websites jealous, but, gosh. Yes, I started the counter at 0, because I'm a needy feedback ho who likes to look at the counter and say, "You like me! You really, really like me!"

Oddly enough, the story with the most hits is "Skinny Dipping," the Dawn/Spike improv at the swimming pool. The next one is "Steam." So most folks who read my site like Protecto-Spike in big brother mode. Then they like the hot boy-on-boy action. It's an interesting demographic.

Go Connie!!!!

t waves pom poms madly

That reminds me, I need to point my roomie to your website. He'll love the Spike/Xander stuff.

Minor edits made to part Seven, above. Hopefully more to come soon.

What's another word for strawlike, like, if you were describing hair, and it was all fried and kind of ratty and this-person-never-uses-conditioner and there is this word that is just what I mean and....

I mean, fried, if you couldn't say fried because you didn't use that kind of language because you were Drusilla. No metaphor-- just that... word.

Which is to say, Jilli, I think I'm going to finish the Gingerbread Coffin fic.

I mean, fried, if you couldn't say fried because you didn't use that kind of language because you were Drusilla. No metaphor-- just that... word.

"Ewwww." Dru wrinkled her nose. "She's got pot-scrubber hair."

<snickers>

But it's not metaphor I'm looking for. Just this one word-- this may be, of course, the kind of thing where you just know the word exists but you're completely wrong, nothing's there. But. Ah.

But it's not metaphor I'm looking for. Just this one word-- this may be, of course, the kind of thing where you just know the word exists but you're completely wrong, nothing's there. But. Ah.

Hrrm. Dried straw-like hair?

Hrrm. Give me five or ten. Era? Do we have an era? Is this set in modern times?

Liz, I was actually quoting one of the single nastiest things I've ever heard said in my life. One very annoying woman when we all worked at Interfinexa in London in the late seventies, asking a very well-bred buddy with an evil sense of humour and no tolerance for suck-ups, what she should do with her hair.

Said the well-bred buddy: "Try scrubbing pots with it."

Needless to say, that line has stayed with me. I've never been bitchy enough about another woman to use it, but perhaps someday a bloke who looks like Art Garfunkle in his prime will piss me off, and I'll let it rip.