I got here first:

FayJay:

This morning, as I mentioned, we had maths. There's only one lad in our group, and he's a sweet boy & v. keen on wargames/TLoTR etc, which is all good.

We were doing a thing about Probability which involved tossing a coin & recording whether it came down heads or tails, and I grinned and said: "See, you can do this with coins, but dwarves - not so much," at which point we both chorused in gravelly cod-Welsh accents "Nobody tosses a dwarf!" and he added: "Except Mrs Dwarf," and we both giggled madly.

A few moments later one of my coin tosses went dramatically awry and landed in his lap. I cracked up. He looked at me and said "I think I'd better recover that, Fay," and I agreed, between giggles, that it was probably for the best.

"I'm not going to ask whether I just gave you heads," I added, and then the maths-doing got derailed for a while for more giggling. 'Cause it turns out we're both actually twelve years old, max.

Fay again:

Wrod. A whole ocean of Wrod, carrying a boatload of Wrod, from which Wroddy Doyle and Wrod Stewart are cheerfully fishing with mighty fishing Wrods, when suddenly a Great White Wrod of awe-inspiring size surges from the waters and prompts them to dash off in search of a bigger boat.

giggles

ita - Hec, make him do his own reading. Kids today with the needs needs needs, parents parents parents thing they have going on.

Man, when I was a kid, there were no parents. We just stumbled up from our cabbage patches and read to our damned selves.

thessaly in Natter:

We took a moment to ponder the majesty of Anthony Bourdain, otherwise known as 'what would happen if Lou Reed had become a 4-star chef'.

Meanwhile, over in Bitches, the conversations meanders over to Hobbit-Oost - the Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name.

Mz Liz:

Hobbits have sweet hobbity love, and hot sweaty sex.

(rereads past sentence) It's just sunk in. I'm really going to hell.

Am Chau Yarkona:

Yes, but you'll be coming to Special Hobbit Fancying Hell.

In hell, you tend to know a lot of the people: in Special Hell, they tend to be your friends.

Smallville:

Jen: Can [Tom Welling] not stand the sight of people not pretty enough to be WB actors or something? I'm trying to figure out why this rule would be established.

Victor: TW: He is so plain! The sight of him makes me despair. Bring me Michael Rosenbaum. His visage will lift my spirits, before I swoon.

Am-Chau:

Wrod to your wrod, Fay, and wrod also to erikaj.

And now I'm thinking about wrods, and all the porny things you could do with them...

erikaj:

Wrods! Wrods in new places!

shrift, in Natter:

I have intimacy issues. If by "intimacy issues" you mean "unwilling to put up with someone else's neurotic crap unless I really, really like that someone else a whole hell of a lot."

Trudy: Attention:

If my SO is lurking here I ask him to reveal himself to me because I'm well on my way to dying an old maid.

Thank you.

Rebeca Lizard: I'm an apocalypses girl.