In Bitches...
Jilli: This all just leads back to my wanting Photoshop filters for real life, you realize.
Amych: Yeah, but think of all the people who'd be walking around with bad drop shadows and dumb sparkly highlights and shit.
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.
In Bitches...
Jilli: This all just leads back to my wanting Photoshop filters for real life, you realize.
Amych: Yeah, but think of all the people who'd be walking around with bad drop shadows and dumb sparkly highlights and shit.
wolfram:
Spoiler prudes be us.
connie neil:
I'll occasionally ask spoilers to tea on the veranda, but I never invite them inside.
wolfram:
A spoiler tease and a number slut.
Theodosia :
I insist the spoilers never touch me there.
connie neil:
t fans herself demurely and cuts wolfram dead
slut indeed. It's companion, sir!
How lovely that a COMM post involving number slutting is companioned in this tread by Theodosia. Secret message to Theodosia my fingers find typing Connie easier
Heh. You divined my symbolic choice in slumbernutting.
Didn't see this comm'd but it comm'd me, so here goes....
From Firefly:
David J. Schwartz - Jan 16, 2003 2:26:27 pm EST #5014 of 5046 Mark
Sisko was a badass.
Plus, watching him call Terry Farrell "Old Man"? Unsettling and sexy.
You know what I love about this place? 3 out of the 5 times I'm tempted to state what may be the obvious, someone already has.
Cindy in Firefly
Natter VI:
billytea: (BTW, the Hartford office is by all accounts a nice place to work. It's in a forest, apparently. (There is actually an archaic word meaning 'office in a forest', namely batilbaby. I should point out that this sort of trivia is of almost no help in my job. I can't help feeling that's wrong.)
Rio:
True story: My feet used to be a 5.5 before I started doing yoga. A year and a half later they were a 6.5 or 7. Which they've remained ever since. They found their True Inner Size.
From Natter, though I can't explain why it's funny to me, it just is. This is like the surreal cherry on the weirdest conversation of the week:
Shawn:
My feet are not only not charming, I hope they know they are the reason We Cannot Have Nice Shoes.
My hands, on the other hand, are freaking Cary Grant.
msbelle:
I think there are laws against this type of thing.
The ever-quotable Nutty (whose bitch I faithfully remain):
Oh! Spider toes! My brother has those, and they're very long. Secretly, I sometimes think he has switched my fingers with his toes and he can stretch a piano octave with his toes like Mike Teavee after taking Vitamin Wonka.
Of course, I don't want knuckles that hairy. Or to be stretched out like human taffy, either.