Oh, wait, no squirrels. Bugger
VA's got ton's gimme an address... (note to self... poke air holes)
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Oh, wait, no squirrels. Bugger
VA's got ton's gimme an address... (note to self... poke air holes)
Thanks for the Happies guys!
I take my laundry to the laundrymat. But I leave it there and give them about fifteen bucks and when I get home from work it is in my lobby washed, dried, and folded with the delicates slightly damp in a seperate bag. T'is truly awesome but nowhere near sex.
Drove up north and checked out Amish people today, pet a horsie on the nose, ate some shoefly pie. Good times... Good times...
Debetesse and I went out to dinner. Steak. Ribs. Pie. Nom nom nom.
Came home and she... well... she seduced me. Had her wicked way with me... Three little words... Three little words and I am now putty in her DVD hands...
Captain. Jack. Harkness.
VA's got ton's gimme an address... (note to self... poke air holes)
That sounds like a great way to get your fingers bitten.
Captain. Jack. Harkness.
Well now, that's entirely fair.
See, I have resisted Who-ness for many years now because there was just so much to catch up on.
And then last night Torchwood was on her TIVO... and then there were DVDs...
What can I say? Oh, I love the Dr. too... but Jack, dear Jack...
Our pants match.
See, I have resisted Who-ness for many years now because there was just so much to catch up on.
Foolish Trudy. You are powerless before the Who.
Or at least the Who Kissage.
Happy Belated Trudy!
"Day" is a vestigial mode of time measurement. Based on solar cycles. Not applicable. I didn't get you anything - River/Firefly/Out of Gas
Or at least the Who Kissage.
Hell, yes, Doctor/Jack is pretty much canon. Have you seen "Boomtown"?
Suppose there was an overweight, horridly out-of-shape 36-year-old who took a weekend trip to the Olympic Peninsula. Further suppose that something about Olympic National Park, the way it has just a few roads barely scratching its surface, but lots of trails, trails of mysterious promise if only one was fit enough to hike them, has her thinking that it would be worth the work to lose 50 lbs. and get back in shape if only she could see something like this: [link]
Has the fat 36-year-old, a city dweller whose only camping experience was car camping as a child, completely taken leave of her senses in her dream of hiking the wilderness because it's THERE?
As an overweight, soon-to-be forty someone who is torturing herself with house porn on a regular basis by tramping over the hills of wealthy SF, solely to be able to hike the mountains you see in Lost, I completely understand. For whatever that's worth.