In NATTER 16, discussion of sexual habits, mostly ND's:
ND: I'd like to consider myself omnisexual.
Trudy: You do naughty things to magazines and cars?
ND: What, you don't?
ita: cues up a medley of Darling Nikki/Little Red Corvette
ND:
Teppy: The lambada? Because it's 2003 -- I don't think it's forbidden anymore.
Aimee: rethinks moving into ND's building
Aw, what the hell...
grabs CD rack
ND: When we were loading in The Laramie Project I made one of our producers die laughing when I started humping a 32" TV.
Sean: Hey man, TVs are sexy...
Madrigal in Spike's Bitch:
I can't even stand tongue piercing, let alone clit piercing. I mean, if someone so desires that feeling of metal, well, either have a partner wear a thimble on their tongue, or do it with a robot.
In Bitches
deborah grabien
(hear her roar)
Hullo.
I shopped for a catering gig that, in one day, went from a mellow little party of about 26 adults and 7 kids, to 40 adults and an undisclosed number of kids that is certainly greater than 7.
Also, I fixed my back door! With a drill and very long wood screws!
I think I'll just trot out back and cut metal with fire, or paint stylised bisons in a cave, or some junk.
Cindy, in Natter, relating a conversation with her DH about their disappointment with The OC:
DH: The Buffistas told you to watch this?
ME: Please don't. I've just had several illusions shattered at once. I can't discuss it. It's too painful.
erika j:
I had to read "Old Man and The Sea" over the summer once. Though it was short, I'm apparently still quite bitter about it.I remember thinking "If I wrote that, I'd shoot myself too,"
She even refers to the lack of context:
Liese: years from now when I've forgotten all context and I'm searching old threadsucks, I'll be all...why was I claiming to be a deity?
In
The Quotable Buffy: She said that? When?
(Elena is outlining her Quote Deathmatch plans for the next day...)
Elena:
[...] (oooh, the final four matches, the winners of which will pair off and the winners of that will compete for the final! 7 more matches. Done in no time. Now I wonder what to do next.)
helentm:
What about Jenny, Elena?
Elena:
Okay, we'll do Jenny tomorrow.
Daniel C. Jensen:
Well, that's what Giles thought at one point. Sigh.
Steph L :
(I admit that, driving in to work this morning, my under-caffeinated brain thought "Wow, the highway is empty -- wonder if it's because of the hurricane?" Then I remembered I'm in southern Ohio.)
Have I mentioned lately how much I love Allyson, because of things like this? --
Dear Scientists,
I am unsure which one of you is the motherless, corn-encrusted poop ball that left our gorgeous new conference room a total sty, so if it wasn't you, please feel free to ignore the rest of this letter.
One of you, and perhaps several witnesses/accomplices used an overhead marker on the whiteboard. I understand that people make mistakes. If you didn't realize what happened and moved on to y our science-making, I would understand.
However, you did realize that you made an error. So you thought maybe you'd try and clean it. Then you discovered that it is incredibly difficult (yet not impossible) to clean overhead marker off the whiteboard. So, you left a big blue smear, not unlike smurf roadkill, across the board, mixed with other techincal sketches and equations in a rainbow of colors.
Your secretary cleans up the coffee cups and soda cans you leave strewn about the room. She pushes the chairs back in and puts away the wires to the equipment, so none of you clumsy fucks will trip and break your skulls. We need to protect your precious brains. I feel like it's the least I can do to propel mankind's understanding of the universe.
This was the last straw. Forty minutes of scrubbing, and ten blue fingers later, the board is clean. The secretary is now on strike. I am no longer in charge of the conference room.
If you lose the remote control, it is your responsibility to find it or buy a new one. If there's an awful stench eminating from a random cup or soggy lunch bag, you will have to learn to like it, or learn where the trach can is.
If all of the dry erase markers dry out because you couldn't be bothered to put the caps back on them, you'll have to open a vein and write in your own blood, asswipe.
Love,
The Secretary
lori: What the fuck is wrong with people? Why are these people such idiots?!?!
Allyson: Perhaps we can get a grant to study the problem further.
