Angel ,'Sleeper'
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.
In Bitches, which was kinda porny today:
Someone:
o wait! I wonder if that tear-in-eye->whatAreYouThinking->AnalSex situation was something contrived in Hustler or some such mag for guys to get some back door action. Adding to the "I'm a sensitive 90's kind of guy that just wants to be held.... (and fuck you up the ass)"
Billytea:
Ok, that's a woman with amazingly flexible shoulder joints.
The someone is omnis_audio.
or omnis_audis depending on how you look at it.
Oops, typo.
Kristin T: Nothing like coming home to sex talk!
billytea: Yeah. Unless you still live with your parents.
Sniffle... sniffle.... Duno what's worse. Being "someone" or having your one of your bestest friends spell your name wrong... sniffle... sniffle.
(hands luggage to KirtisnT for her trip to guilt)
t sticks tongue out at omnis
t /natter
Steph L. in Natter:
See, *real* moral failings are much harder to criticize from a car window: "You claim to be in favor of a working wage and affordable health insurance for everyone, but I saw you shopping at Wal-Mart, which clearly contradicts your previously stated beliefs!"
That would have to be one really sloooooow drive-by.
serial comms. Debetesse in Boxed Set:
(Exposition fairies love pilot season. They all get together and watch the new shows and compare notes and say things like, "Oooh, nicely integrated." and "You did not just do voice-over. Oh my Gawd, we need to stage an intervention")
SusanW in Bitches:
So I'm working away on my manuscript. A colonel is flattering his commanding officer a bit, talking about the utter success of their most recent action.
He called it "a glorious battle."
In my mind's eye, my characters instantly morphed from humans in the elegant officers' uniforms of 200 years ago, developing ridged foreheads and growing long, long hair. Their discreet glasses of claret disappeared, replaced with great goblets of blood wine. My colonel's concern that the general would give him a stern tongue-lashing upon learning he allowed an important enemy leader to slip through his fingers became shame and terror that his fearsome commander would declare him without honor and kill him where he stood.
So. Humans cannot fight glorious battles. The very phrase transforms them into Klingons.