'Serenity'
This thread is for Buffista quotage. Posts that are profound, witty, or otherwise deserving of immortality go here. This is also Shrift's source for the BRQG, so be aware that if your words end up here, they'll also end up there. Finally, please note which thread spawned the quotage and please white-out anything that might be spoilery to Un-Americans.
I hate to say it, but when I hear "The Arms of the Hobbits," the first things I imagine are some very short actual arms. And all the description of the base and plaque they're mounted on makes me think that there's a minion of Sauron somewhere who moonlights as a taxidermist.
Holli, in Natter.
Ellen S. -
No gaydar, but considering all the other things I fail to notice I just assumed it was part of the package (including Global Positioning, the 'Am I Talking Too Much?' breathalyser, and the 'Is This Person Interested' swab test) which was apparently lost in shipment in early adolescence. Therefore, unless I have compelling evidence to the contrary, I just assume that noone has any sex life at all. (The S. stands for Schadenfreude)
I love Ellen.
erikaj in Previously:
Plus, too many sight gags. I hate that stuff. I want to give Chevy Chase to Drusilla to play with.
From Buffy (not really Spoily, just being safe)
ita: I am distressed to realize that I have 85% of Spike's wardrobe.
Jess PMoon That would explain why he doesn't have any clothes left to sleep in.
and a big Smooch to Ms. Liz
Oh, Liz, thanks. And I'd like to thank my brother for making me watch all 4 vacation movies, too. Hatred like that doesn't build up overnight.
jeff mejia: Who actually runs things on the FX website, trained weasels?
DXMAchina: They aren't even trained.
PMM in Bitches:
I have offensive files saved on my PC RIGHT NOW! And it's Fucking Great!
Victor beat me to it!
By three hours. t grin
connie neil:
I get in the kinds of moods where I want to be out among people but god help any of them if they so much as speak to me. I want to observe the world, but be damned if I want to interact with it. In such moods I generally go to the mall food court, get a burger and a large diet Coke and find a place near a column where I can lean and watch. Frequently I set up the Palm and my keyboard and watch the covert looks of mingled gadget-envy/bafflement/"Oh, look, it's a writer and she's writing, do they do that in Utah?" And sometimes I'm just typing things like "Why that woman is wearing purple stretch knit pants over that butt is one of the mysteries of the universe, but someone should make it stop now."