Natter:
John:
Do we know much about Lori's thing that's going to Mars?
Aimee:
Only that she *refuses* to write "FOAMY" on it.
t pouty
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.
Natter:
John:
Do we know much about Lori's thing that's going to Mars?
Aimee:
Only that she *refuses* to write "FOAMY" on it.
t pouty
(I'm not trying to COMM myself; I'm just the setup here...)
In Natter:
Steph L.: We also get random holidays that nobody else does, like -- I swear to you this is true -- the National Day of Prayer.
meara: National Day of Prayer??? Dude. I think on the one hand, I'd be kinda irritated to get that off, but...free day off! Heck, I dont' get MLK, I want day of prayer!!
bitterchick: I don't get President's Day, man. I want a day of prayer. I can pray for more vacation time.
Steph, the logical followup to that would have to be something like "Yeah, and then we could pray for a real live president..."
::snerkity::
Calli:
I like dogs. I like movies with dogs. I've just got training issues that interfere with my enjoyment of some of those movies. It's a squick. Meanwhile I'm watching things like Evil Dead without ever saying, "Damn, they ought to have better regulation of their post-mortem facilities." So I should probably just get over the dog issue.
Noumenon (not, please note, Nou-demon) when asked what to do about a broken tooth:
First step: Give "tooth paste" a chance to earn its name.
Second step: Duct tape!
Third step: Panic.
Wait, that was actually my strategy for eight minute dating. I don't know what to do about the tooth.
billytea: Now, I'm planning to be buried with a cell phone. Granted, yours is another way, perfectly valid I'm sure, of beating those 'buried alive' phobias.
Steph: My coverage area is so bad that I'd dial out, and everyone I dialed would be like "What? Get what? Sorry, you're breaking up -- call me back when you're out of the tunnel!"
John H., in Natter:
This all came up as part of my re-reading a thousand posts of Bureacracy and the WX stuff that led into it.
I haven't exactly come to any dramatic conclusions, but on the other hand I'm all ready to write a literary analysis called something like:
Head-Explodeyness: Images of cranial trauma in posts 5011 to 6918 of the Bureacracy thread
In which I would contrast the posts that merely said "this is making me dizzy" with the posts which said "this is giving me a headache", up to and including the posts that said "I want to claw my own eyes out now". With footnotes.
In Buffy
Sean K (in reference to Fred): I just love that fucked up little Texan stoner.
Moonlit: Sean, I have to say that Fred wasn't the first person to come to my mind as I skimmed over this.
EDITED for mild spoilers. (Sorry)
Rick V, in Natter -- not posted because it's knee-slappingly hilarious, because it deserves immortalisation for other reasons:
About a year after the student suggested, and then dropped, the project I was surfing my six television channels, and I came upon an interesting scene. A discouraged group of characters was preparing for some challenge. The interesting thing was not the individual characters, but the way that they violated television conventions by being together as a group. There was a middle-aged intellectual. Ten full minutes went by without the intellectual saying anything pompous and irrelevant or doing anything physically clumsy for the others to ridicule. No, contrary to all television conventions, he was a valued member of this group. Next to him was an aging punk rocker who seemed a bit too weary to back up his bad attitude. There was a earth-mother hippy girl who seemed to be overdosed on psychedelics, and a couple of other young people. Strangely, the leader of this motley group appeared to be a blonde sorority girl. Ok, that's not impossible on TV. This could be an after-school special designed to increase the self-esteem of little blonde girls everywhere by showing one of them as an effective leader. But the thing is, the girl was really bad at leading. She sucked being the leader, and everyone knew it. But they all accepted her as the leader anyway. The psychological and emotional shading in the relationships was very complex for a television show. Then the punk rocker tosses in an allusion to Henry V. On network television! Finally I realized, 'This is the show that those smart people were talking about on the internet!"
Twenty minutes later the blonde girl was dead and the series was apparently over. But I wanted see what the internet people had to say about it. So I tracked down the Buffistas.
Welcome home, Rick.