Ms. Havisham, in Bitches:
I don't have a romantic bone in my body. No, wait, I do but it's one of the tiny ones in my inner ear.
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.
Ms. Havisham, in Bitches:
I don't have a romantic bone in my body. No, wait, I do but it's one of the tiny ones in my inner ear.
Steph beat me to it.
Ellen S. in Natter :
homemade marshmellows
For some reason, I find this disturbing. I think I'd want marshmellows to retain their air of mystery. I prefer to think of them created through parthenogenesis or found under a cabbage leaf by the StayPuft Man.
Nicole3516:
ETA - I'm post #2002 - does that mean I'm over?
In Bitches:
Jess: Because porn is from SATAN, you see.
Connie Neil: [looks at hard drive, looks at Bookmarks] And here I thought it came from Esmeralda and Elena and Firecat and Kirasmommy and, well, me and ... and ...
Also from Connie in the same post, but I think it works better out on its ownsome:
Get thee out of my hard drive, Satan! I need more room to save smut!
Susan W., continuing on the true origin of marshmallows:
I worked in Vermont one summer as a volunteer with a local church. A common sight was rows of hay bales in fields, covered in white plastic. One of the other volunteers had her family come up from Georgia to visit, including her 7-year-old sister. We had her believing that those were marshmallow farms, and that when harvest time came they'd be chopped into little pieces and bagged up.
billy tea:
IIRC, It's the Feast of the Circumcision
Allyson:
I'm having visions of a secular holiday in which a cute furry animal, like a lamb, brings gifts to small children who leave shriveled sausage casings under their pillows.
Like the tooth faerie for foreskins.
Sue reveals her forbidden feelings re musicals:
I was scarred by having to stage manage "She Loves Me" in theatre school. I sat through something like 30 performances of the stupidest song in the world "Where's my Shoe?" Before every single one of them I wanted to leap from the SM booth to my death. Only the light guy kept me alive.
Actually "She Loves Me" isn't Sondheim, it's Kander & Ebb. It just scarred me for musicals generally.
I'll change that to 're musicals' then.