That was totally my own stupid typo, Sean, and you are right.

I strongly suspect that second Iraq listing (next door, and thus convenient) is supposed to be Iran.

I think you may be right. But it's "Iraq" in the original post, and I'm kinda leery about changing things when I'm quoting someone else. Still funny, though.

JZ?

ETA: Never mind. Edited and all good now.

And still damn funny.

Jesse, who is so right.

This is still the internet, right? Isn't this the place to talk about cats?

billytea in Bitches:

We could have a Buffista sale! I can see the ads now: "Everyone has been slashed!"

Because I needed to laugh today...and this is such a great "letter" to explain to a non-Buffista the Buffista way.

In Bitches:

sj: Yup, Dave doesn't really like that we still call him Teacup Guy; I think his problem with it is that it is not a very manly nickname. But, I like it so I am going to still use it, unless I can actually get him to join the board. Besides, every time I think of that teacup gift, I smile. I think that was the moment I started to fall in love with him. It was such a thoughtful gift and proved he was truly paying attenion.

Topic!Cindy:
Dear Dave,

Nice name. No, really. I would have been quite happy to name a son David, as it has been a favorite of mine for as long as I can remember, but not only did I have a terrible crush on a David, in my youth which (since he did not end up marrying me and therefore he had no role in fathering my children) made using the name for my sons with my non-Dave husband feel a bit unseemly. The name was already out of commission in his family anyhow though, because we have a nephew named David.

Anyhow, it has come to our attention that you are not particularly fond of your not-chosen-by-you Buffista name: Teacup Guy.

Lemme 'splain. No. There is too much. Lemme sum up. We, the Buffista Bitches (well, some of us, you can't actually ever make any statement that holds true for all Buffistas and or any sub-group; even this disclaimer is likely to invoke protest)...

Let me start again. Many/some/at least a few of us/but I believe more so I'm sticking with...

Many of us were terrifically touched, and impressed by your thoughtful, original, and well, frankly darling gift to sj, which you gave to her, so early on in your courtship. I mean, look how it affects sj, even today. When we use your name, we remind ourselves of your lovely, generous, attentive gesture. Our women want you and our men want to be you (and then there's the cross-over population), but what it comes down to is this: Damn, baby. That was cute.

Also sj, I'm fairly certain, did not want to use your actual name here, so early on. And really, her reticence to use it was in deference to your feelings and privacy, as for all she (and we) knew, maybe you wouldn't be particularly fond of a 1,000 or so people you don't know, reading your very name, in connection to stories about you, particularly prior to you being informed of their existence and sj's connection to same. She's considerate like that.

And yet? We needed some way in which to refer to you. Now, you happened into our lives sj's life, around the time that another of our number was striking up a flirtation with a guy at a music shop. And we needed to be able to distinguish you, from him, as the stories were told to us, somewhat concurrently.

Finally, we have a thousand other Davids already. Okay, we already had at least more than one long before we knew about you, and then there's always DB floating around in the back of (and sometimes the front of) our minds. I know, I know. The name David is no Michael, but still, for years upon end, it was a particularly popular name. Just see our FAQ.

So, how about a compromise: We get to call you Teacup Guy, and you get to learn to appreciate it. What do you mean, that's no compromise? Huh. Okay, how about this, how about, when we are with you in person, we will try to keep our use of Teacup Guy to a minimum, and call you Dave. Meanwhile, here on the board, we still get to call you teacup guy from time to time, but you are free to assume a [read: Dave] every time we use it, and sj gets to call you it whenever she likes, because it makes her all schmoopy, which--let's be frank even though you're Dave--is only going to benefit you, if you know what I mean. ::wink wink nudge nudge::

Love, and Kisses,

[At least some of the] Bitches

sj: Damn, I am being schmoopy. Feel free to smack me.

Topic!Cindy: See what I mean, Dave? ::wink wink nudge nudge::

Inappropriate? Possibly. But funny? Well, we are the Buffistas...

In Unamericans:

Erin, (after others expressed surprise at it not being the IRA who bombed London): I wonder if the IRA will be mad at the Islamic terrorists. Maybe they'll rumble!

it's been a while since we've had a drunk posting incident:

Hil R: I just went to happy hour with what seemed like a fairly large portion of young Jewish DC. It was fun. Spent lots of time admiring rings, and panicking at the "why am I the only girl here who's not in a relationship?" stuff. Spent more time pondering why I seem to be stuck at "cute" and never "hot." Spent quite a bit of time drinking, as can be be seen by this rambling post which will surely embarrass me tomorrow. Decided I'm too fat. Am now trying to convince myself that drunk dialing is bad and wrong and something I will not do.

Lilty Cash, in Bitches:

Speaking of drinking and European sex (and who cares if it's exactly what we were talking about, let's indulge!), I am both packing and drinking a Seabreeze. (This liquor ain't just going to evaporate out of the apartment. Is it? Because if it is, I'd better drink faster.)

This packing for a backpack stuff? Hard. I keep being tempted to bring things that are cute rather than serviceable. Shoes, I can deal with. I think I'm going to bring my Tevas for just about everything, then a pair of regular old flip-flops. I figure, they can be used for showers or to look sassy if nessecary (Because I'm skanky like that.)

But, must I really say no to one satin cami? If it gets wrinkled enough, it looks like it's supposed to be that way! What if I go to a pub and there is a pretty Irish/Italian/Swiss/French boy? And I can roll up my little khaki skirt until it takes up just about no room at all!

Of course, once there, the real problem with the Irish/Italian/Swiss/French boy is not turning into that girl who flips over the accents. I don't want to be that girl. (I so am.)

Me: Be cool be cool be cool.

Dude: 'Allo.

Me: Let's make out.

From Movies:

Jesse: So, Fantastic Four? Really not so good...

DavidS: Did you go see this with your ex?

::suspicious look::

Jesse: I did. We're friends now! And he got the tickets for free.

ita: Friends don't take friends to see F4.

In Bitches, Fay responds on Erin's behalf to a vitriolic, ignorant and poorly spelled email:

Fay:

Wow, Erin. Wow. Sorry, I can't resist.

Dear [stupid cow],

You say "I am intitled to my opinion as much as the next person." You certainly are entitled (that’s how it’s spelled, by the way) to your own opinion about what constitutes a good teacher. However, you are being remarkably disingenuous to pretend surprise at having inspired a negative response with your offensive, ill-informed and appallingly spelled email. You and I are strangers. You know nothing about my skills base, nothing about my professional conduct, nothing about my moral code, nothing about my philosophy of education, nothing about my competence in the classroom, nothing about my intellect, nothing, in short, about who I am. What you have right now, lady are your assumptions and prejudices, and nothing else.

You say: “I think teacehers should be PROUD of what they do and are ROLE MODELS for youth.”

I quite agree that teachers (that’s how it’s spelled, by the way) should be proud of what they do. I am tremendously proud of how hard I work, and how passionately I care about my job. I am proud that, given my intelligence and broad skills base, I have chosen to follow my heart and devote myself to helping young people to develop their skills and understanding, rather than working in a better paid but less worthwhile career. I am proud to be a role model for my students; I believe passionately in helping them to fulfil their potential and I actively model not only intellectual curiosity, self reliance, independent thinking and academic integrity, but also compassion and open mindedness. I do not teach my students to be bigots. I do not teach my students to make assumptions on the basis of little or no evidence. I do not teach my students to look down on other people.

You say: “…you do not have to be so angry about it. But I am not supriised that a person like you are who have would write such an angry letter back at me.”

You certainly should not be surprised (that’s how it’s spelled, by the way) that your offensive, presumptuous and threatening email to a total stranger provoked an indignant response. In education, we call this “cause and effect.” It is, in my opinion, more than a little disingenuous (this is a long word we educated people sometimes use to mean "pretending to be stupider than you really are") of you to try to present the appearance of the wounded party at this point. You started this.

You say: “I should write your school adn tell them what a bitch yuo are but since you are not teaching my children I can tell you would just like that as a way to feel ike you are somebody important.”

By all means, dear lady, do write to my school and (that’s how it’s spelled, by the way) tell them what a bitch you consider me to be. Surprisingly, my employers actually do know me quite well. It is even conceivable that, having actually MET me in person, and having witnessed my teaching style, observed my work clothes, monitored my professionalism and conduct towards my students and to my colleagues, that they may have a slightly better understanding of my character than you (that’s how it’s spelled, by the way) possess at this juncture. As to whether a complaint from a total stranger would make me feel like (that’s how it’s spelled, by the way) I was somebody important – dear lady, my self-esteem is based upon a thorough knowledge of my own strengths and weaknesses, not upon complaints or plaudits I might receive from someone such as you. I am an intelligent, witty, sexy, capable professional, and I certainly do not need affirmation or condemnation from total strangers who don’t have the wit to cover up their pitiful grammar and spelling with something as simple as spell check.

Your pithy little letter ended thus: “So I think you can just FUCK OFF and one day you will probably be fired for being a FUCKING WHORE as I am sur eyou are from how you talked to people you don't know. Don't worry I won't (continued...)