Katerina Bee: I have days when I'd like to have the power to say, "YOU!! Out of the gene pool!!"

John in Bureacracy, stripped of all context (just the way we like him):

I can hardly believe I'm writing this, but we may have to convince people how important it is to show up and vote "I don't care".

Nutty in Literary:

At one point, I wrote a Shakespeare paper -- I don't even remember the topic -- into which I larded as many board game names as I could. Boggle, Sorry and Scrabble are pretty easy, and I think Monopoly too, but Parcheesi? Fuhgedaboudit.

In Dude, Where's My Precious? ("Luscious" being Lucius Malfoy):

FayJay:

At some point I mean to write a fic in which Luscious arrives at his elven hairdresser (through whatever portal one needs to accomplish such a journey) and sits there snootily flicking through magazines whilst Haldir sips a latte, each of them radiating angry cat vibes over the whole who's the prettiest thing.

I guess Legolas would be having his roots done, at this point. And Celeborn would be sitting under the drier.

Betsy Hanes Perry:

Pssst! Legolas has extensions!

Kathy Astrom:

Oh, and Elrond would be getting his eyebrows waxed!

FayJay:

Pssst! Legolas has extensions!

This is an evil rumour spread about by Elrond, just because his OverProtectiveDadness is jealous about Legolas being the prettiest.

candyb:

I think often about how great the Elvish Spas and Salons must be. The tremendous amount of time they all must spent there, hanging out and whatnot just like Fay described.

Betsy Hanes Perry:

And singing.

Possibly doo-wop.

FayJay:

I bet they use Lembas as biscotti. I bet they were all "here, take this, it will last you a very long time" and the whole time they were sniggering behind their bows at the gullibility of hobbits.

Beverly:

Hee! To the Elven Beautification Emporium, as such an establishment near me is known.

Anne W.:

I bet they use Lembas as biscotti. I bet they were all "here, take this, it will last you a very long time" and the whole time they were sniggering behind their bows at the gullibility of hobbits.

"This, little ones, is Elven Latte. One sip will keep a man awake and somewhat jittery for a week."

connie neil, in Bitches (Billy Idol, if you were wondering):

bzzt Cleanup on aisle 12, we've got a 42-year-old woman reverting to adolescent goo again. bzzt

shrift in When Come Back, Bring Tape on her recent trip...

there was no Stripper!Xander to be found in Oxnard. The lord giveth, and the lord taketh away...

Angus in Music:

Question for the Americans: in Sisqo's "Thong Song", there's a bit that goes:

She had dumps like a truck, truck, truck

Thighs like what? What? What?

Baby, move your butt, butt, butt

I think I'll sing it again (...etc.)

My question is, what are "dumps," and why is it desirable for them to be trucklike? Because the only association I can bring to mind is taking a dump, and that would be an...unusual choice of image, particularly for a song dedicated to an underwear fetish.

(The most sublime and uplifting song about women's underwear ever, btw. Well, can you think of a rival?)

Trudy: Could you grow a penis?

erikaj: Now, Trudy, I love my friends. Would do anything for them, but that's a little much. And I'm afraid you'd be disappointed anyway...I'm just thinking how long it took me to get my digital camera to work. A new body part's got to take at least that long to master, right?

ita, in Natter:

Mr. Rogers' voice creeped me out. I don't like to be soothed.

BHP, in Natter:

Lunch. Now. Started saying was going to lunch now half an hour ago!

Arrgh. Must buy helping verbs. Also personal pronouns. Perhaps in feminine hygiene section?

Betsy, I can set you up with some copula verbs, cheap!