Because we should all honor our inner 12 year old girl

Trudy Booth: The boy I loved at camp, Jon Barton, wore Polo.

I bought a teddy bear and a small bottle of Polo. I named the bear "Jon Barton." I doused it frequently and slept with it every night.

Years later in a make or break Pictionary round my sister drew a bear being sprayed with a bottle of cologne and we won when I yelled "POLO!!!!!"

In a Natter discussion of perfumes and high school/college and the memories (especially of guys) they provoke.

ita I went to an all girl's school. We smelt of nothing more than privation.

In Natter --

brenda: Dick Armey. Dick Armey. Maybe there's some hope for people to see the light after all.

tommyrot: I just love his name. It sounds like some militant gay punk group.

In Natter (excerpted from a series of posts)

bon bon: Doctors, or otherwise people I come to for medical advice all the time: why is my lower lashline twitching? Why has it been doing this for weeks? I've practically poked my eyes out trying to get whatever it is out of my eye but it appears to be a weird muscle spasm down there.

I hope you guys don't mind if I do the eye closing thing while typing my posts.

My joke about typing blind has been foikle by my fairly-good touchtyping skills.

OPr not.

megan walker in Natter:

I hate to break it to the honey lobby, but my plate of vinegar is attracting way more flies than the one with honey.

Sue illustrates just how much we love our electronics:

I think my iPod is dead. Nooo!!! take me instead!!!!

an exchange in Minearverse

Strega

As a writer, you can crush dreams from a distance. It's a better fit for the introverted sadist.

Typo Boy

Editor. IJS.

Jilli

Hey! I like to crush their dreams up close. Usually by bludgeoning them with a copy of the style guide ...

The Empress, in Bitches:

IOEmelineNews, she has become very attached to two balls that came with this spiral tower thingie she got last year. She won't do anything without them. If she can't find them or doesn't have them, she wails, "WANT BALLS WANT BALLS!"

Joe looked at me and said, "That's your kid."

JZ in Natter:

Matilda is so pretty. None of the pictures so far do her any kind of justice. I'm not an exhibitionist at all, but damn, I want someone to hover over my shoulder and take pictures while she's breastfeeding; she just looks so lovely, her little neck all stretched out, her entire head cupped in my hand, her long elegant fingers flexing and waving, very intent and focused on her task (a difficult one for a not-quite-term baby) but with this milk-stoned/blissed-out look in her eyes.

And she's an incredibly easy baby -- doesn't fuss much, is easily consoled (she just interrupted this post with a wet diaper and bleated all through the change, but one pass up and down the hallway afterward totally soothed her; I pointed out the pictures of Emmett and of teenage David and his parents, her grandparents, and her own image in the full-length mirror at the end of the hall, and she goggled at everything very attentively, tenting her fingers under her chin, and now she's on the Boppy on my lap glancing back and forth between the scrreen and me).

She sleeps a lot during the day, which makes nighttimes a little rough but does allow for a lot of compensatory napping and stuff-doing by daylight. And when she's out, she's deeply out -- you can go about your business, including clattery stuff like putting away dishes or even accidentally dropping one, and she doesn't care (she passed her hearing screen, so that's not an issue; she's just a sound sleeper). No jaundice. She's already nursing with some degree of competence. She scratches up her face a good bit with her tiny nails, but the scratches disappear almost instantly, so clearly she has Slayer-like healing powers.

In short, obviously a genius, a saint, a deep thinker, and possibly a Chosen One. I only hope that when the other Potentials track her down and help her fulfil her destiny, she remembers to introduce her mom to Giles.

In Bitches.

Daisy Jane:

A friend of mine was telling me about a live sex show he went to once where the girl wrote on him with a sharpie using only her goolie. It turned out it was permanent marker and he had to tell his girlfriend he'd passed out and his jackhole buddies wrote on him.

It actually explains a lot since whenever he passes out over here at our St. Pat's parties, he always slurrs a "Don't let anyone write on me." to me as I'm putting him to bed.

I did let my girlfriend write his name on his forehead since she kept calling him by someone else's name at the party.

victor infante:

So, one of my myriad old roommates went to Tiajuana with a friend, and when the cab driver asked him where he wanted to go, he said "take us to the donkey show!"

To which the driver replied, his voice distraught, "No, man. The donkey died!"

Daisy Jane -

At least it was in eyeliner.

The writing I mean. I have no idea if the donkey was in drag.