From Movies:

Hil: This was the same professor who once interrupted his own teaching for about 10 minutes because a student had Ben Affleck's head on a stick.

Nutty: Really? Was it a mummified miniature head, or full-sized? And whose head is Ben Affleck wearing now??

Hil: It was a picture of Ben Affleck, cut out from a magazine, glued onto a piece of lime-green oak tag, and stapled onto a meterstick like a picket sign or something. The whole thing went like this: (note: this professor has a somewhat strong Chilean accent. You need to read his lines with this accent for the full effect.)

Student walks into class late, carrying Ben Affleck's head on stick. He sits down in a seat next to the wall, leans the stick against the wall, takes out his notebook, and starts taking notes. Prof finishes writing whatever he's writing on the board and turns back to the class.

Prof: Aaaah! What is that? Why do you have Ben Affleck's head on a stick?
Student: It's for a class.
Prof: Well, I cannot teach to Ben Affleck's head on a stick. Put that away.
Student: OK. (Leans stick against wall behind desk. The sign part of it comes up just above the desk.)
Prof: (after writing something else on the board and then turning back to the class) Aaaah! Why do you still have Ben Affleck's head on a stick? I told you to put that away.
Student: Sorry. There's really nowhere to put it.
Prof: I cannot teach to Ben Affleck's head on a stick. Would you be able to teach to Ben Affleck's head on a stick?
Student: Um, I really don't know.
Prof: It should not be in this class. Look, here is the class list. You are on this list. Hillary is on this list. Bennet is on this list. Brandon is on this list. Ben Affleck is not on this list. Ben Affleck is not enrolled in this class, so you cannot have his head on a stick in this class with you.
Student: But, it's just a picture.
Prof: I am not teaching Ben Affleck's head on a stick.

(Hec, I edited in two additional lines after "there's really nowhere to put it." But they're not terribly important.)

(Hec, I edited in two additional lines after "there's really nowhere to put it." But they're not terribly important.)

Duly edited.

Oh, Eris above. I think I broke something laughing at that, Hil.

Scrappy and Steph's Surgical Scar Smackdown:

Scrappy:Teppy, I have a 9-inch scar on my abdomen from an emergency splenectomy when was 12. Not to brag, but just wanted to make VERY clear that mine is bigger than yours. (sticks out tongue tauntingly) We can compare them at the F2F!

Steph: Mine *could* be 10 inches; we didn't pull out a ruler. I'll have my friend take a picture.

Scrappy: Scar smackdown, baby!

Steph: Oh, bring it! I ain't afraid of your spleen scar, you spleenless wonder!

Scrappy: At least my scar is on the front where it is visible to everyone. Not hidden around in back like I was ASHAMED of it or something.

Steph: No, mine is on my back so you can see it when you KISS MY ASS...

Ita, context free in bureaucracy!

Our toys! Ours! Ours! Ours!

Whoa. Head rush.

Natter 11:

Connie Neil: Five foot two, eyes of blue ...
Lord, I got sick of hearing that song.

erikj: I want a song like that. And probably a crossbow, too, actually.

Nutty: Imagine if you were named Susan. (Or my real name, which is not Susan, but same diff.) Lazy Susan! Lazy Susan!

I knew there was a reason I had a nickname (the most annoyingly common one in my school) till I was 18.

Deborah Grabien:

Lazy Susan! Lazy Susan!

My little issue was that once I got to America? Everyone wanted to call me "Debbie."

Do I LOOK like a "Debbie"? Debbie is cute. She is perky. She has dimples and turns the world on with her smile, or some junk.

Debbie does not now, nor has she ever, looked a bust of Beethoven in a bad mood, come to life. Debbie doesn't scare other peoples' children with her roman nose.

Debbie. Nothing against it, for those it suits. But were they nuts?

Gus in Natter:

One of the drama students and I made a trip to the lav at the same time and were talking about the Scottish Play along the way.

Some combination of this and ethanol led to two fellows standing side by side at urinals, bellowing ...

Is this a dagger which I see before me,

The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.

I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.

Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible

To feeling as to sight? or art thou but

A dagger of the mind, a false creation,

Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?

I see thee yet, in form as palpable

As this which now I draw.

... which drew some odd looks.

Perkins in Bitches:

My across the way neighbor just grinned and waved at me through the window, which kind of freaked me out, until I realized that I was wearing my tiara, drinking wine out of a martini glass, and playing fetch with the cat.

Now I'm just worried he thinks I'm insane.

And I gladly contributed to the madness.

t natter

Perkins, are there pictures yet?

t /natter