flea, in Buffy, and although I don't think it's spoilery, because hello to the long, involved thought process that brought us to this imagery, but:

So I clearly cannot choose the Giles in front of you!

Anne W, anticipating the holidays:

Thanksgiving at my Dad's place is going to be like this year. There will be about 30 people, some of whom are Russian or British. Festivities include:

• "Pony rides" for the littlies on Dad's horses, most of whom are retired racehorces and are about as emotionally stable as an inbred Chihuahua on an espresso buzz.
• Food, part one. This includes Improvisational Stuffing, theological debate, and a rousing game of Who Can Get Grandma To Leave The Table In Outrage And Go Sit In The Car For Two Hours. There will be a ham, and two turkeys. Both turkeys will come to the table looking boiled because the chief cook enjoys crispy turkey skin.
• Drinking (for the adults), and a three-mile long treasure hunt/Bataan Death March re-enactment to de-hyper the children. Bonus points for finding the good vodka that has been hidden from those who would mix it with fruit punch.
• Food, part two. Dessert. Bonus points for finding the "good" apple pie baked by neighbor that is too delicious to waste on mere guests.
• More drinking. Showtunes are sung.
• Bonfire. This is made out of all of the trash and stray wood collected on the farm from throughout the year. The heat generated by this fire is great enough that no one can get within 10 feet of it. There are 8' long sticks we use to roast marshmallows. If drunk enough, one of the Russians will leap over the bonfire once it dies down a bit. The first year we had the fire, Dad used gasoline to start it. The resulting fireball gave him "one hell of a Vietnam flashback," to use his exact words. (This also explains why he is not allowed to deep-fry a turkey).
• Guests are kicked out. 30% of them return the next day for pancakes and leftover pie.

billytea, in re "womanmaker":

So, what? He was only shooting X chromosomes?

Nutty in Previously (re: toxicity of colors)

Chemistry: killing people since people first existed! Well, okay, and also making it possible to bake chocolate cakes. Gotta take the bad with the good, here.

Jess: I want a set of wine charms. I think they're dreadfully cute.

Brenda: I kind of figure that if you can't keep track of your glass, you're too drunk to care about the cooties.

John H discusses the history of Australia, in Natter. Is this a great country or what?

• The fleet gets here. They send a boat ashore to see if there are lots of wild animals or scary natives around. There aren't.
• They bring the cook from the ship to gather fresh vegetables if possible. The cook is Chinese. Please note, racists, that Asian people were in this country, and doing something useful, since the first hour, which can't necessarily be said of the rest of us.
• They wait offshore until the following day.
• They come ashore, drink rum and toast King George. Please note that Australia day, the 26th of January, is not the anniversary of their arrival, it's just the anniversary of the first drinking of alcohol in Australia
• They bring the male prisoners ashore, and make them build houses for the security of the female prisoners
• This takes a week. I think feminists should make a point of celebrating Australia day in early February, to symbolise that they've been marginalised and kept back since the very start
• Finally the makeshift shelters are finished. The female prisoners are brought ashore.
• Sydney has one of those insanely huge thunderstorms we're famous for, the shelters are ruined, the prisoners (who haven't had the company of the opposite sex in months) run riot, get into the rum, and everyone ends up completely wasted having sex in the mud.

[I'm just setting up the punchline. I am not COMMing myself. That would be wrong.]

Meara: Oh, might've been. She was swimming when she met the lynx and there was beastiality...

Anonymous Person: She was licking her lynx?

Jess: With a LYNX?? Claws! Claws in new places!

Dear Santa belle -

Please give me a fortune and some fame so's I can buy a big house with lots of land so my wife will finally shut up about the fucking camel.

Also see previous letters re: the ability to make people's heads explode using only the power of my mind. It has now been nineteen years since I first made this request and I am getting quite impatient. As always I promise to use this ability "responsibly".

I have been very good and have not chopped out anyone's liver just to hear them scream for months.

Hope this letter finds you in good health.

Yrs.,

Miracleman

Jen, talking about the plot to Sweet November:

Chaz got to live with a guy who looked like Michael Rosenbaum, and Charlize Theron's character had to spend a month with a guy who looked and acted a lot like Keanu Reeves. I ask you, who was the unlucky one?