Woooooo! I've been COMMed!
(Pssst, it was in Natter, not Bitches. I should really start reading that one too...)
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.
Woooooo! I've been COMMed!
(Pssst, it was in Natter, not Bitches. I should really start reading that one too...)
Cashmere in Natter:
We were crammed into a Strokes show in London when a guy right behind us yelled, "MIND YOUR BACKS!" Which is apparently British for "I'm sorry, if you don't move quickly, I'm going to barf all over you."
In Natter --
javachick: They also don't have dinner until after 10PM, which, wow. That seems so late to me.
megan walker: This was a big problem when I dated a Madridleno. Not as big as the ascot, but still.
Teppy, in bitches:
My drug of choice: irony.
From Buffistechnology 3
Matt H
Jumping in to bid for geek-trashiest: How about a 1981 DEC Rainbow with both Z80 and 8086 chip, and BOTH C/PM and MS-DOS 1.0....still operational, with all the papers I wrote as an undergraduate on floppies that STILL WORK.
(yes, I actually still have this. Don't know why.)
amych
You have the machine because that's fucking cool. You have the undergrad papers because... well, that's between you and your doG.
Ginger
Hey, I had a DEC Rainbow.
beth b
any one need a Dec Rainbow?
Windsparrow in Bitches:
I want to live in a world where giddy teenagers with no tact and little sense can gross me out regardless of their orientations, then develop what I would consider a sense of decorum.
MM, in Technology, lays the smack on the never-ending game of "my old computer is older than yours":
Ah, yes, the good old days.
Charles Babbage and I used to discuss number theory and chicks while filing the teeth on the gears of his Difference Engine. It was I that directed him towards the efficacy of steam as a motivator for his calculatory Devices, though he thought me mad. I finally convinced him after a particularly long discussion in a pub resulting in fisticuffs and my directing him to a chirurgeon for a cure for syphilis.
Little known fact about Babbage: SLUT!
It was this, rather than his much advertised Personality Difficulties (e.g. his propensity for accosting organ-grinders and beating them about the groin with a stout walking stick) that, I think, led to his failure to complete his Difference and Analytical Engines. The man, while indubitably a genius, could not Keep It In His Pants and would chase down and bugger anything with an appropriate orifice. This was kept out of the Papers, of course, in deference to his status as Lucasian Professor of Mathematics. Also, he had dirt on every publisher in London.
But I digress.
Hec, in Bitches, coming up with a brilliant idea:
We should all wear little sashes like Girl Scouts and put on all the buttons that we don't want to have to explain to people: Divorced & Remarried, Shared Custody in East Bay, Author, Dead Mom, A's Fan.
From Minearverse...
Simon: The thought has crossed my mind that foreign broadcasters may cut Dollhouse so they can squeeze in more ads. Bit like what A&E did for MI5 (Spooks), I'm sure BBC America did it for Torchwood as well. But that's fun and games for next year. Right now I'm just enjoying a fandom that's just woken up after a 3 year nap.
Tamara: And they woke up all feisty, it seems.
Allyson: Heh. And a whole new fandom will spring forth. Like Firefly fans who didna know Buffy and Angel. And I was like, "Who are you people? Hands off the Whedon, strangers! You're getting your new fan goo on my Tim! Wash your hands! Ew!"
From Movies...
Jilli: We just got back from Indy. It was fun, even if it did take so much suspension of disbelief in some sections that even *I* felt a strain. But still, it was pretty much what I wanted in an Indiana Jones movie.
Plei: Jilli, Jilli, Jilli.
You don't SUSPEND your disbelief for it. You leave it in the car, outside the theatre, and if it happens to come looking for you, you pretend you've never met it.