For when? I think both schools are ending in the next couple of weeks, and I may well have jury duty for the foreseeable future. My father suggested that maybe I could do both (actually, all three) but I just mapped it, and... no.
Buffybot ,'Dirty Girls'
Spike's Bitches 36: Did I Sully Our Good Name?
[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.
That's rough, Emily. You gotta go for the fabulousness, though, right?
You go for fabulous because your post about it sounded cheerful and we've (because, lo, I shall speak for all) missed you being cheerful. My personal theory is Emily Should Be Happy and Have a Fabulous Job.
Yay, Emily!!!
My personal theory is Emily Should Be Happy and Have a Fabulous Job.
This is not a theory. It is scientific fact. Yay for Fabulousness!!!!
I feel so sorry for our waiter.
I think we need to gather more data while Emily is Happy and Has a Fabulous Job, just to be absolutely sure. Scientific method and all.
It is thundering loudly, and I am tipsy. The power is coming and going. There's nothing good on tv.
More bulletins as events warrant.
Wait...a graduation in a church? Are they worried about vampires getting the grads?
We had a nice thunderstorm, followed somewhat later by fireworks. I guess the fireworks were for Memorial Day?
Just got a call from Hec -- Emmett's team won both its games today (one respectable win, one 25-4 slaughter) so they'll be sticking around for the finals tomorrow. All the boys are right now in the swimming pool of a Fremont motel, splashing around and feeling sassy. So, yay!
But, bleah. I spent the afternoon cleaning our bathroom, which desperately needed it, and said task included (whitefonted for extreme revoltingness) dragging almost an entire human head's worth of smelly, slimy blond and gray hairs out of the sink drain, following which I decided that cleaning for the day was Over. I went to the corner store to buy a bottle of stout to cleanse me of the filth, and found that they don't take the one credit card I have. Back home, I discovered that the gin is gone, so my back-up martini plan is also out. And Matilda just caressed my face lovingly and jammed one razorlike fingernail up my nose.
All of which is extremely first world nibbled by ducks (though at least not quite my-diamond-shoes-are-too-tight), so somebody please tell me you wish you had a root and a husband so I can STFU.
t /mememe