really? Ok, I'll stop. Same wife, yes?
Yep.
t /natter now, I mean it
anybody want a peanut?
Mal ,'Bushwhacked'
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.
really? Ok, I'll stop. Same wife, yes?
Yep.
t /natter now, I mean it
anybody want a peanut?
In NATTER:
VW Bug: Oh, and does anyone want a button that says, "Doing my part to piss off the religious right"? One of our sponsors gave them to me to put in the goodie bags, but we both agreed that it could be offensive, so I'm not going to use them
Jesse: Who did you get those from?
DXMachina: CBS
In his very own thread:
Tim Minear: You people are far too literate for my own good.
Nutty in the Minearverse:
Hey. Bloody massacre, double-overtime. There's a difference.
Or if there isn't, I should have killed my boss a long time ago.
Angel:
DavidS:
Buffy [sings]: "Hey I died twice..."
Giles: [smiles the Smile Rueful]
cut to:
Darla in the waiting room to the afterlife from Beetlejuice, watching on TV.
Darla: "Pffft."
Ahahaha.
Nutty:
You know, suddenly I am wondering what people do when they want to write fanfic about people who, in real life, have no lips. Because maybe it's just the fandoms I've been in, but I swear the plump male lip is the fulcrum with which you can move a 10MB opus. So, what do people do, if they're huge fans of, like, a Jack Nicholson character?
In Natter:
ita (and others): they like you.
msbelle: well duh. have you met me? I'm the nicest. god you people have short memories.
In Bitches:
beth: with cats you don't want burlap on your walls. In the first house we lived in in CA - there was burlap on the walls in one room. one of our cats would climb the wall, bump his head on the ceiling and cry , because he couldn't get any higher.
Matt's no-good, very bad night:
I did my level best Lucy impression last night as I attempted to find the proper amount of bleach to turn the bright green socks I bought into something resembling the shirt they're going to be paired with. I learned:
(1) There is no amount of exposure to bleach brief enough to avoid stripping out too much of the blue dye.
(2) Vinegar is almost as effective as bleach at stripping out said dye. Again, no amount of exposure sufficiently brief for the desired effect.
(3) Despite several minutes of rinsing and wringing, cotton fabric remains saturated once it's been dipped in bleach and vinegar.
(4) Cotton fabric so saturated should never be dried in a microwave.
(5) After bleach/vinegar saturated fabric has burst into flame within the microwave, it gives off a choke-inducing yellow smoke.
(6) Said choke-inducing yellow smoke, while thick enough to cause wooziness and teary eyes within three breaths of exposure, somehow avoids setting off a smoke alarm that won't let me cook bacon in peace.
(7) When shouldering open a stuck kitchen door to the deck for fresh air while clad solely in boxers, it would be wise to make sure it's not 35° outside said door.
(8) Likewise, during same activity, it would be best to avoid performing it with such force that one ends up spread eagled before the now-open door as one's neighbors are returning from the night shift.
(9) When picking oneself up off the floor after such a pratfall, one should be grateful for the aforementioned 35° temperature, which... minimizes... any breaches of decorum that might result from the sudden realization that one has chosen the pair of boxers with no fly button for the night's endeavor.
My worries about the neighbor's and landlord's negative reaction when I announce my departure for an apartment in Memphis have suddenly been allayed.