Betsy HP: I consider it bad enough that there are standards for navel beauty. I refuse to worry about hiding my unsightly toes from an aggrieved populace.
Zoe: Is there any way I'm gonna get out of this with honor and dignity? Wash: You're pretty much down to ritual suicide, lambie-toes.
'War Stories'
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.
Trudy Booth - Jul 20, 2004 7:46:46 am PDT #6458 of 10000
Greece's financial crisis threatens to take down all of Western civilization - a civilization they themselves founded. A rather tragic irony - which is something they also invented. - Jon Stewart
Jessica - Jul 20, 2004 10:57:45 am PDT #6459 of 10000
And then Ortus came and said "It's Ortin' time" and they all Orted off into the sunset
In Movies:
askye: They were totally blinded by the idea of Halle in a catsuit.
Plei: Me too, but that's just because I poked my own eyes out as a precaution...
erinaceous - Jul 21, 2004 6:29:39 pm PDT #6460 of 10000
A fellow makes himself conspicuous when he throws soft-boiled eggs at the electric fan.
who needs context? Wimps, that's who.
Frankenbuddha: Everything you know is wrong!
billytea: I knew that.
evil jimi - Jul 23, 2004 5:39:44 am PDT #6461 of 10000
Lurching from one disaster to the next.
Gus: Fiona, I did miss your note in Natter. The sins of skipping are many and dark.
billytea: Gus shall henceforth be known as Dark Skippy. He is Legion.
billytea - Jul 23, 2004 7:53:15 am PDT #6462 of 10000
You were a wrong baby who grew up wrong. The wrong kind of wrong. It's better you hear it from a friend.
Polter-Cow in Natter:
I have now earwormed myself with new lyrics to the badger song:
Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty
(Birthday! Birthday!)
Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty
(Birthday! Birthday!)
Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty Lilty
(Birthday, birthday!)
Joooob! Quit your joooob! Aaah, quit your jooob
Nicole - Jul 24, 2004 9:04:59 pm PDT #6463 of 10000
I'm getting the pig!
Daniel C. Jensen in Bitches:
You know you are a geek when you go to a garage sale, pick up a Yoda Pez dispenser marked for a nickel, and play puppet with the head, mimicing out loud, "Buy you I will."
deborah grabien - Jul 24, 2004 9:41:45 pm PDT #6464 of 10000
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
Damn it, Nicole!
(sulks as Nicole plays Lance Armstrong to my Jan Ullrich, beating me to Daniel's high-snerk quote)
Theodosia - Jul 25, 2004 5:41:26 am PDT #6465 of 10000
'we all walk this earth feeling we are frauds. The trick is to be grateful and hope the caper doesn't end any time soon"
Beej, talking about when it's 'clutter' and when it's over the top:
After an adventure a coupla years ago, I'll never, ever judge anyone for their stuff-keeping.
I live on Capital Hill (DC), a neighborhood thickly carpeted with 'characters'. One such, Dick, had been a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist, a radical activist for free press and an all around intellectual powerhouse. We knew him as the cranky guy who loved arguing more than breathing, and who could outwit the sharpest of minds. He'd hold court every day in the park across the street from my house.
Exactly 2 years ago, the fire department carried his body out of his studio apartment directly across from me. He'd died from the heat, age and goodness knows what else. After they removed the body, the fire guys broke down his door. I was confused.
Next day, I went over and saw why.
The rubbish, and I mean literally garbage, was over my head. I'm 5 feet and I'd have to say the trash was at least 7.5 feet high. Dick would push open the door about 10 inches, climb up on the mountain and crawl into the corner to sleep.
It took me and 4 other volunteers 8 days to excavate the room. Under all the trash (notebooks, letters, newspapers, books-a-million, 50s porn--"Backdoor Betty" is one title that stuck in my mind, women's pantyhose in plastic bags--don't ask, candy wrappers and unopened tins of tuna, mostly) we found a bed, Barcalounger, dining table, 4 chairs, a tv and book cases. It took me three days to free a fan I found because the cord was so deeply imbedded in the trash.
In one corner, a water leak had literally composted the trash into dirt over the years.
It was an amazing thing watching different people's reactions to this poor fellow's mental illness. Some were sad, some bewildered and some actually outraged. Everyone had a deeply personal experience of it.
At one point, standing on the pile, after we'd gotten it down to the lounger, I tried to imagine the moment at which one simply says, "Okay." and let's the stuff take over. It's impossible to say, but I still wonder.
Fay - Jul 26, 2004 4:50:28 am PDT #6466 of 10000
"Fuck Western ideologically-motivated gender identification!" Sulu gasped, and came.
deborah grabien - Jul 26, 2004 7:49:27 am PDT #6467 of 10000
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
Anne in Bitches, on the Kafkaesque qualities of cats:
I swear that Jeeves goes into an existential funk whenever I run his food bowl through the dishwasher. It's as if he's thinking "I do not see my food bowl. Therefore, I must not exist."