Ginger
in Bitches on the history of animal stuffing:
In the middle ages, they were big on the truffle inside a lark inside a pigeon inside a duck inside a chicken inside a swan with gilded skin dishes. It's another example of the lengths to which boredom can drive one in the absense of moveable type and television.
Jars, in Movies, about the Greeks' persistent denial that Alexander was gay:
I've always looked fondly upon the Put Your Hands on Your Ears and Sing La-La-La school of historical thought.
shrift,
in Natter: If anybody in the midwest hears an earth-shattering kaboom sometime in the next few hours, don't worry; it'll just be my head exploding from pent-up rage.
Mr. Broom
reaches his boggle limit:
At some point the cerebellum hardens into a callus and will not admit further input.
Polter-Cow in Bitches: You haven't eaten anything all day?
Who do you think you are, me?
amych
writes in response to an 'identity protected for her own good' fanfic writer:
"Albus runs away from his heart to Paris but his heart follows him."
In my stubbornly literal mental picture, it's kind of shuffle-hopping along behind him, making moist little squishy-squelchy noises at every hop, and picking up bits of road grime and dropped pigeon feathers as it goes along. Every once in a while it has to stop to catch its breath, because it's hard going, trying to catch up when you're shuffle-hopping and squelching along without legs.
billytea in Natter, context be damned.
I believe the roachbots are our future
Teach them well, and let them lead the way...
Sparky1
in Bitches: (best off-the-cuff definition, evah)
Turducken is dead bird concentrate.
In B'cy, about WX going paid:
Your free limited subscription still entitles you to many of the features you've come to enjoy about World Crossing. You will be able to post ten times per day, read all you want, have your own forum, and there will be ads.
DXMachina: So, the massive outages will continue, then?