More likely unearthing this one. It's a disaster.
'Dirty Girls'
Spike's Bitches 34: They're All Slime and Antlers
[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.
sj gets to clean!
which is what I should do , but I am not...
::Starts Celebratory Tussle! Looks askance at Astarte on the assumption that it will induce joinage. Tussle, tussle!::
I'm a thrill, but not a cheap one.
I need to kill off a couple more dancing, apple cheeked dolls before I can indulge in tusslage.
You have no one but yourself to blame...
Hey, Stavros the Embassy Dog made it onto TV: [link]
Heh. I just realized that the potential buyers should be here right in time for the Saturday afternoon screamfest courtesy of the upstairs neighbors. I hope they don't miss it.
And I thought Lady Macbeth, the compulsive cleaner upstairs was bad... Man, there are times I miss the drug dealers.(And no, not for material...much)
The drug dealers that used to live upstairs from me were very quiet and nice to me. Of course, we went to the same high school.
Drug dealers make fine neighbors, actually. They don't complain about your music, rat you out to the HOA, and all you ever hear are their vacuums. Of course they have a lot of friends come by for two minutes. LM must move her furniture every day...thump, thump, thump.
I need to kill off a couple more dancing, apple cheeked dolls before I can indulge in tusslage.
But, but I'm a dancing, apple-cheeked doll! If you kill me, I won't be as much fun to tussle with! I'm certain of it!
You have no one but yourself to blame...
Am sad.
Also hungry. See y'all after lunch.
Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It's off to Submarina I go...
::Runs and hides. Yet again.::
Drug dealers make fine neighbors, actually. They don't complain about your music, rat you out to the HOA, and all you ever hear are their vacuums. Of course they have a lot of friends come by for two minutes. LM must move her furniture every day...thump, thump, thump.
Once I had a roommate who was a dealer. I could tell whenever all the dealers in Madison were out of pot because all of a sudden he started getting a bazillion desperate phone calls.