What's up, Aimee?
Kaylee ,'Shindig'
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.
What's up, Aims?
I will not flip out like a mammal.
Tenant, boss, or family? Regardless, whomever it is is an asshat at the moment.
If you do flip out, all I know is that you were here with me, in DC, at the time.
Oh, misunderstanding re: payroll between me and our payroll company and then the company I'm supposed to make a payment to not accepting Money Gram online payments.
Tell them it's a Candy Gram?
Dude. You are literally close enough for me to pick you up on my way home from work! And, you're just down the road from the Grapevine. Plus, 35 will get you to tons of places south and north.
If you do flip out, all I know is that you were here with me, in DC, at the time.
yes, the three of us had lunch, right? I mean, two lawyers wouldn't lie! Also, Maria, are you planning on going the Detroit in the next 6 months? I'm planning a recruiting trip,and it would be fun to be there together
yes, the three of us had lunch, right? I mean, two lawyers wouldn't lie! Also, Maria, are you planning on going the Detroit in the next 6 months? I'm planning a recruiting trip,and it would be fun to be there together
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Please please please please?????
My south is the south of my childhood, mostly at my grandparents' house. It's air so hot and full of water that everyone moves in slow motion, houses with the blinds closed to keep out the sun, so they're cool and dark inside. It's the smell of the river hanging over everything, mixing with the magnolias and honeysuckle that grow like weeds. It's the smell of my grandmother's Cashmere Bouquet powder and the lavender in the linens. It's fish fries on Fridays and a city full of relatives, half of whom call me Julia Ann because I look "just like your mother". It's the sound of the soft drawls and the vegetable vendors going up and down the street calling out what they have, the scissor grinder driving along calling for knives to sharpen. It's being sent to Baptist bible school, when I'm really not clear on this whole Christianity thing to start with, but trying to get with the program. It's fried chicken and cream gravy over mashed potatoes, homemade biscuits, and pies with oversweetened fillings and crusts made with self-rising flour. It's ice tea sweetened until your teeth hurt, except for the lemon juice and the mint it was brewed with. It's putting on a dress and gloves to go visiting and learning to be a lady. It's nostalgia for a time that's passed and knowing that you really can't go home again.
Mini Buffista island: [link]