Muchos gracias, amych!
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.
And, smonster, if Spike would do me, I would buy him a rhyming dictionary and a thesaurus.
COMMin above post, please: erika:
if Spike would do me, I would buy him a rhyming dictionary and a thesaurus.
Mostly because it's something I've thought before now and never got around to articulating.
catching up in Dude....
Nutty:
I don't know, but I think, if I had a choice, I would work really hard not to name my child after the soap-operatically doomed hero of yore who lost his elf-love, impregnated his amnesiac sister, and died a ravening madman. Just, you know, a personal thing, like not naming my child Stalin or Nimrod or Grover Cleveland.
From Bureaucracy (fear not, b'cyphobes, it is of the natter)
Nutty: I stuck an onion up its butt and cooked it and it is yummy.
Noumenon: Nutty's Chicken Butt recipe. I'd cross the road for it.
Hec, in Natter:
Tasty masturbation? I think that's only possible for certain employees of Cirque de Soleil.
mikal summarized the first 150 posts of Natter 12b. Read it to find out about ita's date.
connie neil in Like Sartre...
I'm all for the respect. So long as it's not quantified and people don't start sidling up to each other and saying "My respect's bigger than yours." Unless it's Saturday night, we're in a sleazy roadhouse, and everyone's drunk.
In "Angel", nonspoilery:
Madrigal: The Cheeseman could definitely have his own show. He'd fight against the false cheeses, such as his enemy, the Whiz, and he'd protect his friends from osteoperosis, he'd feed the needy multi ethnic street kids, and in a special episode aimed at that one bit of society just full of hatred, he'd slay lactose intolerance.
Madrigal in Natter:
I tend to think of my frequent lack of dreaming as the little hamster in my brain stumbling out of the wheel and staggering over to a corner where he rests and twitches with a cigarette until I wake up and he has to start running again.