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.
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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.
Natter VI:
PMM: Math goes best with Goldschlager.
Natter VI:
Jessee: OK, officially too many uses of AA, which I keep thinking means Alcoholics Anonymous, anyway. First someone meant affirmative action, right? And now you mean Ann Arbor? Were there any others I missed?
Nutty: Amy Acker? Administrative Assistant? Artful ankles?
Sarameg: Aristocratic Aardvarks. Amiable Alligators. And don't forget: Alien Antforms.
BHP: Ant's ankles. Which was, like "bee's knees", a compliment in the '20s.
Sarameg: Accepting Anemones? Able Angelenos? I could probably due this all day....
Sarameg, on a roll: Bodacious bazookas? Bewildered Borneans?
Aimee, in Natter (7, to add the context):
JZ, it is such a long and convoluted story, it would honestly take us into "Natter 12:Someone Shut Aimee the Hell Up" if I were to tell the whole thing.
Natter 7:
HilR: Also, general note to the world at large: if you are doing a presentation with me, and this presentation counts for both our grades, in other words counts for my grade, please refrain from smoking pot for at least a few hours before the presentation. Because even if you think you're doing a good job, it appears to all us non-high people that you're reading straight from the book, slurring your words enough that no one can tell what you're saying anyway, writing unintelligibly all over the chalkboard, and not in any way proving the theorem you're supposed to prove, and therefore not providing the basis that's needed for my part to make sense. Thank you for your cooperation.
Natter 7 and who needs context?
lori: Go Gud with the big tool!
Natter 7:
DXMachina: Work has been a bitch. I'm beginning to suspect that we built our building over the east coast hellmouth. We've had the firewall die, had the network get infected by a whole family of worms while the firewall was down, had OSHA come to visit, and are meanwhile trying to finish prepping for an ISO 9001 audit next week. Seriously thinking about drinking myself into a stupor tomorrow night, but then I'd miss Farscape, plus I'd be hung over at work Saturday. (Yup, it keeps gettin' better and better...)
please refrain from smoking pot for at least a few hours before the presentation.
I so wish Hil had waited until he end of the stoner's presentation and simply snarled, "You fucking pot-head!"