I refuse to contextualize this:
ted r: Giles is on my lap right now, purring like mad and kneading my legs with his claws and licking my fingers
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.
I refuse to contextualize this:
ted r: Giles is on my lap right now, purring like mad and kneading my legs with his claws and licking my fingers
I am not synesthetic, and I'm a plain old right-hander who has no trouble distinguishing left from right. I need a quirk.
-- Steph L.
FayJay, in fanfiction: Monkey crack, made by the finest bepanted Colombian monkeys.
It's the "bepanted" that makes it funny!
victor in Buffy:
Besides. We still analyze OUTFITS from four seasons ago. Issues are doomed.
Definitely, Liz, esp. picturing some announcer saying it.
ita in Natter 2
Perverts of the Buffistas, unite! (don't ask how many times I typed untie! instead)
(context - foamy young actor discussion)
Daniel C. Jensen, in Buffy (non-spoilery division):
in fact, it could be that so much red herring will be thrown onto the screen, that Sunnydale will be able to open a specialty-fish sushi restaurant.
RL, in Bitches:
If the world were as Idair would have it, there would be no struggle to write, and language would flow like, I dunno, honey, or something more fluid, but still sweet, from our fingers, not unlike this sentence, which will not stop going, because I am a dork.
And in the Angel thread:
Trudy: Super Porny Pants swoops in, ready for action but soon realizes she is in no way needed. She places fists on hips and beams proudly.
Ple: What, you're just gonna stand around and watch?
Trudy: Super Porny Pants whips out camcorder.
Nutty natter, because I just can't resist a bad pun:
Did I tell the famous family "check engine light" story?
flea and I were driving out to Cincinnati for her to start grad school. (I should preface this with the fact that flea got her license about three weeks before this 700 mile drive, and also neither she nor I had ever driven that far.) And we are driving the former family rustmobile, a 1987 Subaru wagon, because mother upgraded and the sister who is going into the wilds of Ohio needs a car.
So we head out towards the wild wild west, and before we're in Hamden (CT), the check engine light comes on. And we're sort of nervous, and flea is very nervous, and it would be truly of the suck to get stuck in Nowheresville, PA with a dead car. So we pull over, 20 minutes into the trip, and "check the engine". But we're mechanical ignoramae, so all we know how to do to the engine is check the oil. Which is fine. And onward we go.
And onward we went, the check engine light on and off, the whole 700 miles. We checked the oil about 10 times that day, and of course every time it was fine. And then when we arrived in Cincinnati, we called up our mother, who was like, "Oh, yeah, Subarus have electrical shorts in the dashboard indicators all the time. It has nothing to do with the actual engine." Aieeee!
Anyway, before its sad demise, that car became known as Roxanne, because we really didn't want him to put on the red light.
In Natter:
Billytea: Just as 'Eureka!!' (Oireka?) is Greek for "This bath is too hot!!"
Miracleman: I thought it meant "Give me a towel!"
ita: I thought it meant "Cold water shrinkage, I swear!"