'Same Time, Same Place'
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.
ita in Natter:
So there were rumours that Marcia Cross was gay, based on (mere existence of?) the Advocate cover story featuring her. Said cover is about the rumour that Marcia Cross is gay. It's very confusing. It's amnesia and a reset button away from JJ Abrams plotting.
In Natter --
Jesse: I am SO GLAD I remembered a friend of mine already offered to father my child, so I don't need to worry about how to scam some dude's sperm.
quester in Natter, on those times when you can't decide whether a word is spelled correctly:
sometimes words just don't look right no matter what you do with them. they're like hair, sometimes.
In Spike's Bitches:
Daniel: Email response from MCI customer service after I cancelled their asses: "I am regretful that you were not please with the rates that you received from MCI."
beth b: Outsourced their apologies, eh?
Daniel: Either that or all my base no belong to them.
Even though this one will make no sense to anybody but us:
PMM: I have leftover buttercream, so today I have to think up a use for it that's slightly more rational than just spooning it into my mouth.
Jesse: Um, why?
PMM: Too much sugar makes Princess Ticky Box hyper, and she'll go all ita on my ribcage.
Even though this one will make no sense to anybody but us:
Ah, but that's the beauty of it.
Betsy HP, in Natter:
Judging by this month's Vogue, nipples are back. Hi, Nipples! I remember you from the 1970s! Nice to see you!
Allyson on the snark in Natter:
All snark should begin with the love. You can hate the subject matter, feel tortured by being bound to your chair like A Clockwork Orange Couch Potato, but you must love the opportunity for the snark, love the act of snarking, love the teevee like a lover with a ten-inch penis and abs of steel, else it's just lameass bitching.
In Natter:
ita: I wonder if Branson would finance me quite pointedly not going around the world. I have no idea why my body is so convinced I don't need to work for a living, but this morning it was very "No, lie down a little longer, then maybe a stretch class and some krav. Then we'll have cupcakes."
Betsy HP: ita's body has been talking to me again. Except for the krav part. My body says "lie down a little longer, then lie down some more. Maybe some internet. THEN cupcakes."
a short while later...
Betsy HP: inspired by ita's body, I just went to make a photocopy of my shoulder stretches so I could leave one at work.
The copier jammed. While trying to slide out the paper drawer, I overbalanced and fell straight back on my ass. In the process, I threw out my left arm to catch myself -- this would be the one with the bad shoulder joint.
From now on, I'm sticking to the horizontal cupcake eating.
Aimée in Bitches: I wonder when I should start looking for wee baby corsets.
(For her 13 week old daughter Emeline)
eta: how the time flies by