Hil, in Natter:
Apparently alfredo sauce conducts electricity.
Aren't they something. They're like butterflies, or little pieces of wrapping paper blowing around.
Kaylee ,'Shindig'
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.
Steph L. - Oct 09, 2002 2:24:33 pm PDT #277 of 10000
the hardest to learn / was the least complicated
Betsy HP - Oct 09, 2002 3:21:03 pm PDT #278 of 10000
If I only had a brain...
JZ , referring to a moron who exceeds the previously-known boundaries of obliviousness:
Cluestick, clue anvil, possibly the clue grand piano snapping the cord of the clue crane and tumbling five stories down the front of the clue brownstone to punch a hole six feet deep in the clue sidewalk.
Jessica - Oct 09, 2002 9:08:36 pm PDT #279 of 10000
If I want to become a cloud of bats, does each bat need a separate vaccination?
In Bitches:
Heather Alayne: [NB] said SMG smells like grapefruit.
ita: My god ... all the fanfic that has to be rewritten.
plasmo - Oct 10, 2002 1:02:32 am PDT #280 of 10000
{[-_-]}
Why can't people understand that a size is not a proper way to measure thinness (is that a word?), because a tall person is obviously wider in order to not look like a standing noodle or piece of cardboard?
Nilly - in Natter2, on people being in proportion.
word!
Nilly - Oct 10, 2002 6:01:53 am PDT #281 of 10000
Swouncing
NAFDA Buffy:
Jess PMoon: Well, Giles has been hangin' with the coven in Devon all summer too -- probably some of it rubbed off.
Miracleman: Longer than just the summer, I thought. Didn't they intimate that he'd been chillin' with the blessed-homies since he left the first time?
And another Miracleman-y goodness:
Giles seemed (to me) more "sure, 'connected', whatever ya gotta say to get through, baby. Now put the flower back in Portugal."
And Madrigal (hey, I'm catching up), not-spoilery wondering about Buffy:
is she a human who runs on a demonic duracell?
Nilly - Oct 10, 2002 7:07:37 am PDT #282 of 10000
Swouncing
DXM in Natter:
My surreal moment for today came on the ride into work. As I came around a bend in the road, I noticed about eight police cars pulled over on the shoulder, all from different towns, and all with their lights flashing. Immediately after I passed them, they all pulled out onto the road in unison, and started following me. I wasn't too worried, because they had turned their lights off, and they obviously weren't chasing me, but it was odd. I made a left turn, and sure enough, they kept following me. Finally, I pulled into Dunkin Donuts to get a coffee, and they all pulled into the parking lot after me, which I thought was hugely funny.
Jim - Oct 10, 2002 7:37:45 am PDT #283 of 10000
Ficht nicht mit Der Raketemensch!
BillyTea:
It's probably best not to clog this thread with instalments of My Life and Times of Me, as Seen by Me; but feel free to email me if you want to discuss anything further.
Can I be the first to nominate "My Life and Times of Me, as Seen by Me" as a future Natter title?
Jessica - Oct 10, 2002 7:55:41 am PDT #284 of 10000
If I want to become a cloud of bats, does each bat need a separate vaccination?
Shrift:
My rep seems to demand a 6' tall tower of terror, where in reality, I'm just a 5'4" slounge of snark.
Theodosia - Oct 10, 2002 7:57:25 am PDT #285 of 10000
'we all walk this earth feeling we are frauds. The trick is to be grateful and hope the caper doesn't end any time soon"
Madrigal, over in Angel:
Eh, I like the idea of femmy Connor. After he gets over Connor preferring Holtz, and attacking Lorne, and dumping him in the ocean for three months, he'll have the new anguish of dealing with a son who runs like a girl.
Emily - Oct 10, 2002 10:24:03 am PDT #286 of 10000
"In the equation E = mc⬧, c⬧ is a pretty big honking number." - Scola
Shrift:
If I ever do work up the gumption to finally take over the world and have done so, I think I'll suddenly realize that, hey, I don't like people. The next day I'd quietly leave the world on some random schmuck's front step, the world tucked under a fuzzy blankie in a basket, with a scrawled note hanging from a ribbon, reading: "Plz. care for as if yr. own. Ta ever so."