Lee, in Bitches:

This morning, we have replaced Lee's normal personality with new cranky forgetful bitch crystals. Let's see if anyone notices.

In Natter. To decimate:

Sean: Well, if my Roman history teacher is to be believed, they would line up the opposing, defeated army, and count down the line.... 1, 2, 3, 4... and every time they got to ten, GACK! Dead.

Katie M: Well, that's gonna lead to line-shuffling. ("Hey, I think Flavius doesn't count so good. Flavius! Stand over here!")

ita: Eenie meenie mynie, FUCKED.

connie neil:

LIMA, Peru (Reuters) - A Russian tourist was struck by lightning and killed on the summit of Huayna Picchu, the imposing mountain that rises behind Peru's famous Inca citadel Machu Picchu, police and officials said on Tuesday.

You know, gods can get tired of waiting for their human sacrifices. I mean, you hear promises and promises, the locals say they'll get right on putting the sacrifices back on a regular schedule, but do they follow through? No. So a god has to get proactive and serves himself up a bit of tourist flambe to tide him over.

SailAweigh in Bitches:

I had to give up donating blood, because of a similar deal. I can donate, but it puts me into shock afterwards. Serious: sit me down, feed me, don't let me walk away, just put me to bed for the rest of the day. So, I quit. It's not that I think it's going to harm me, my rational brain says, "what's the big deal?" It's that little lizard stuck down in the bottom? He's fucking small. You take that much blood from him, you could turn him into a vampire licking your finger where they stole a drop to test your iron content. He knows it, and he knows he's in control of your responses. So, he runs like hell when he sees the needle coming. And you go right along with him, will-you, nill-you.

In Music:

Alicia K: Dude, I just met Bono. At Starbucks headquarters.

He was at Starbucks having a meeting with The Big Cheese about something. When asked what about, he responded in a very Bono-like fashion: "Revolution is in the air."

tommyrot: Oh, so Bono is going to be involved in the violent overthrow of the U.S. government? Bitchin!

Alicia K: Yes, but the revolution must be well-caffeinated!

Okay, I realize I'm not in that thread anymore, but the harbingers of revolution are meeting at the Starbucks???

Man, and I thought the rioters who looted Starbucks were overrreacting. One would have thought they'd come down on the side of revolution, though. Hmm.

Religious discussion in Bitches:

Mr. Broom:

It's interesting because the Third Commandment specifically mentions keeping the Sabbath holy, and the Sabbath is still Saturday, even if we treat Sunday as a holy day. It's a point of contention among those who enjoy making every little detail of Scripture a point of contention.

Robin:

So you're saying religious folk were the first fandom?

In Lost,

Matt the Bruins Fan: Yet scarily, Susan Hawk lost about 5 lbs. over the entire time she was there. The woman has the metabolism of an ent.

From the new Lost thread:

libkitty:

I also had a glass of wine with dinner, which I am now realizing affected me more than I had thought, 'cause I can't type worth shit right now. I am such a wine wimp.

beathen:

I think you were drinking the "will cause funny typing" kind of wine. It doesn't affect speech, only the fingers. It's also known as the "dyslexic fingers" wine. The warning label reads: "Will cause extreme typing unfriendliness. Do not take before tests, while writing papers or while nattering with the Buffistas."

Polter-Cow speculates on plot developments he'd like to see for Lost:

Someone needs to get scurvy. Just so they can say the word "scurvy."

Jack: "She's got scurvy."
Hurley: "What's scurvy, dude?"
Jack: "It results from Vitamin C deficiency."
Shannon: "Vitamin what?"
Hurley: "Well she hasn't been drinking a lot of OJ, man."
Locke: "At first light, we hunt. The OJ sleeps during the day, leaving the pulp to protect the young. The young are the most vulnerable. We need two to distract the pulp and one to fill the glass."

In Bitches:

P-C:

I am at lab, doing a Western.

Trudes:

I know what he's talking about. But it's more fun to picture him and a bunch of other earnest grad students walking around in lab coats and ten gallon hats. "Ain't no man touches my sliiiiiides without hearin' from ol Sabin here" pats gun "there ain't room enough in this lab fer a low down, no good, snake in the grass, MICROSCOPE RUSTLER" One spits chaw, the others throw their bodies over their petri dishes...