John H :

That article from the Sydney Morning Herald was interesting, though it contained the rather unfortunate line:

Maybe women are just interested in homosexuality?

To which I can only reply "Yeah, you're right. And those lesbian women seem to have a particular interest in it..."

shrift :

Heh.

Because women can't just be interested in sexuality itself.

That would be wrong.

Trudy Booth:

Yeah, if we want to see sweaty writhing boy bodies it's because our fathers's didn't love us or don't value ourselves. Like when we have sex in High School.

p.m. marcontell :

See, and all this time I blamed my aching loins. Well, fuck.

Glad you set me straight.

Steph L:

Well, I've been having to turn Xmas music off, because the holidays, and the idea of the holidays, have been making me really sad. But Thanksgiving was surprisingly good, and I'm oddly looking forward to all my high-school gang being home, and -- I don't know what switch got flipped in my head. But the music didn't bother me.

Except that George Michael "Last Christmas I gave you my heart...the very next day you took it away" song? That *should* inspire feelings of disembowelment.

Now going to bed. It's WAY too late for me to be up and slandering George Michael.

DXM:

"'Jesus fucking Christ' isn't blasphemy. 'Jesus fucking Buddha,' now that's blasphemy..."

I was quoting something another Buffista once said, I just don't remember who, when, or where.

edit: Okay, it turns out I was doing a riff on something Theresa W. once posted -

All this reminds me of a game show sketch my school comedy troupe did called "That's Blasphemy!" The game involved contestants out-blaspheming each other. Sample text:

Host: And the category is...Christianity!

Contestant A: *ding!* Jesus H. Christ!

Contestant B: *ding!* Jesus fucking Christ!

Contestant C: *ding!* Jesus fucking Buddha!

# DING DING DING!*

Host: And C gets the point! On to round two...

Sophia:

If I die, and it turns out that God has tequila-spouting nipples, I will expire again from laughter.

In Bitches, on the F2F--

Fay: Sigh. I would so like to come to the F2F.

Hec: Fay. Come. F2F. All in one sentence for ease of use...

pmm: Can she be naked?

erika: (Picturing Fay hurrying around in the airport in a long trenchcoat.)

Fay: I can be completely and utterly tremblingly barenekkid under my clothes.

Airport Official: "Purpose of visit?"

Fay: "Porn."

Airport Official: "Anything to declare?"

Fay: "I am a bitch. I write Gay Vampire Snuff Porn. I have inappropriate Hobbit Oost and think that Connor should be slashed with...oh. No, not really. That's a very nice uniform, by the way. Will you be needing to search my orifices, at all?"

erika: I'd bet they let you through.

I think we need the whole blasphemous, porny, liquor-soaked exchange. It's pure Buffista...

Hec: Formless entities need love too.

Amych: Sure, but do they really need nipples?

Ple: Sure! Where else would the tequila come from?

Sophia: If I die, and it turns out that God has tequila-spouting nipples, I will expire again from laughter. Then again, I will probably never know, as I may be going straight to hell just for saying that.

erika: I would deeply hate for that to be my last thought. I mean it's better than "Holy crap, he really did have a gun." but not by much.

Ple: G-d is perfection. Of course G-d's nipples spout 100% blue agave tequila, and G-d's tears dry instantly to sharp, perfect crystals of salt. And G-d sweats lime.

cashmere: congratulations, this has converted this agnostic. praise the lord.

I'd add

cashmere: congratulations, this has converted this agnostic. praise the lord.

I'd add

Done. For ease of loading into the BRQG.

Allyson, on ita's deadliness:

Don't be ridiculous. She can incapacitate you with her thumb, (I know, she used me as an example for that trick) but then she kills you with the knuckle of her index finger.