God, how I miss Erin.
Coffee On My Monitor
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.
Herah: I elect not to tell him we have lost a naked toddler
Annoying Battlestar Galactica Description: Our characters are living, breathing people with all the emotional complexity and contradictions present in quality dramas
ita: Yeah, but you won't have a whore.
Shawn: As much as I believe they will totally and completely revolutionize how dogfights are filmed by the addition of split screen, I ain't watching no show without the possibility of evil twins.
(again re: Battlestar Galactica in Firefly)
And
SLUT!
Speaking of evil twins, Rebecca Lizard puts some words in Hec's mouth in Sang Sacre:
"Well," he says, "I'd love to stay and talk, have an evil conversation with your variously evil selves, but I'm kind of in a hurry. You know. Great battle, matter of balance between good and evil, it occurs around these parts about every six months. Some towns have softball leagues...."
Natter 8:
Burrell: I'm pretty adamant in my stance that, if you want to take someone with you, you should start by killing yourself and *then* see if you still want to kill the other person.
MechaKrelboyne: And here I thought I'd excised the Buffy movie from all space and time. I don't remember much of it, but it doesn't seem the kind of thing to play to his strengths. Now Blood of Heroes, there was a Rutger Hauer movie. Post Apocalyptic football using a dog skull.
Elena's Husband:
Post Apocalyptic football using a dog skull.
...To be fair, all of the pigs would be used for methane production, so it's unlikely anyone will be getting their skins.
MechaKrelboyne: Oh, very much so. Given their options, dog skull seems quite reasonable.
Hil R.:
I hated Who Want to Be a Millionaire. I like fast-paced trivia shows. It drove me nuts to listen to everybody trying to puzzle out an answer. (Several of my friends told me that I wasn't allowed to watch that show with them anymore, because I'd start shouting, "You're an idiot! How can you not know that? And if you don't know it, just shut up, because you're not going to be able to figure it out! Either you know it or you don't, and you don't so you lose, and just get out of that chair and let's get to some more questions!" Um. I can get a bit over-involved.)
Cindy, commenting on a news item in Natter 8:
It's Groundhog Day. Punxsutawney Phil, saw his shadow this morning so more winter weather is on the way.
Little rat bastard.
Anne:
Hec, how do cat owners drive you nuts? Is it because we inisist on talking about our ickle-snooky-wooky-sweetiepies nonstop?
Hec:
Because [some cat owners - not the Buffistas surely] take a nice furry lizard creature with a brain the size of a walnut, whose only ambition is to sleep, nip through the spinal cords of small creatures and bite while having sex and pour all of [their] neuroses onto them until the cats look like a weird mirror of intimacy issues staring back at their owners blankly. Which their owners interpret as love. But, of course, this does not apply to the Buffistas at all. Other people. Who talk about their cats in that insane kind of wrapped-up-in-them way.
ita:
Some people are like that about cats, some are like that about The Beatles.