'The Message'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
I don't think I have a type, either. At least a type that I am primarily attracted to. I've dated just about everybody.
t thinks about it
Or, conversely, I could just have no discretion.
Probably the latter.
Myself though? I am the plucky best friend type. Kind of like Joan Cusack.
Not only that though, Aimee, because you're way too beautiful. You're the pretty girl women would love to hate, 'til they meet you and realize how funny, smart and real you are, under all the pretty.
I am the Funny Fat Friend. Ooh, she's jolly!
t BLUSHES LIKE WHOA
Nora, do you guys have a push broom to sweep the water to the pump? In our house in Cambridge we had to do that several times after every big rain or snow. Ah, Massachusetts and its freaky water table.
Myself though? I am the plucky best friend type. Kind of like Joan Cusack.
Oh, jeez. I don't even want to think what type I am.
{{{Deena}}} That's mostly just because I love to hug you, but also because Deena = smart, and a whole lot of other wonderful things besides.
I am the Funny Fat Friend. Ooh, she's jolly!
Um....Funny? Yes. Friend? Yes. Funny friend? Yes.
That other word? NO.
So sayeth I.
*smooch*
Happy Anniversary Deena.
And once again, I am Nora.
I don't even want to think what type I am.
You are the sexy, wise nurturing one.
but the idea of him in a fistfight makes me laugh and laugh and laugh. He's a nice guy, through and through, with an ounce of the Bad Boy anywhere.
I'm just going to nod my head, because this kinda applies to Pete. He doesn't seem like what my "type" is at all, but ... he's wonderful. I wouldn't trade him for anyone.
A quick interjection; Jilli has never seen me truly angry. She thinks she has, but I keep telling her that what she's seen is only a taste. My family has the old 'red rage' ability which is something I've done my best to bury lo, these 20 years.
But, god forbid, if I ever have to get into a fist fight with someone, it won't be pretty. I'll either have to be knocked out or I'll probably break both of my fists on some fucker's skull. This is not machismo posturing, I'm just aware of what type of crazy I can become when threatened, even if I don't actually have the strength or the frame to pull it off effectively.
Cheery, non?