Buffybot ,'Dirty Girls'
[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.
d, that's great news about your father! when do you leave to go visit?
Sox, lots of house ~ma! I just talked to our agent and he just dropped what sounded remarkably like a hint that the sellers would take our counter-counter offer. And I was busy plotting my route for open houses this weekend. Now I have to have him re-write the counter-counter so that if they sign the darn thing this week, Yom Kippur is not counted as a day.
Sparky, I leave Tuesday evening. Less than a week, now!
Lots of house-ma for both Sparky and Sox!
Emily, your phone woes don't sound like fun. Can you just unplug the phone? Run a longer cord and stick the phone in the hallway?
A pox on these landlubbers an' their ways! Me day was bad enough before I e'en sailed from port this dawn, what with the wee deckhand objectin' to his rations, and generally setting to makin' the ship look like she'd been through the mother of all typhoons.
But here, at Port Office, where I expect to be given a wide berth as befits my rank and standing (and cutlass), the poxy lubbers can't seem to tell fore from aft an' have been howling their tales of woe outside my battlements for hours.
Sun's over the yardarm somewhere, says I. Time for grog, says I.
I'm fairly certain I will be the only one in my department talking like a pirate... Come on, people! It's Talk Like A Pirate Day! What will cheer up bedbound kids more than all their caregivers arrr'ing and yarrr'ing all over the place?
Maybe they're intimidated. You did win a Curse Like A Pirate death match at 826 Valencia after all.
Yarr! Avast, Buffistos, an' bugger me with a marlin-spike, but it's a dreary morning not fit for bravo or beast.
Aarrrr! In honor of this fine day, I'm sharin' the song I sung for me wee daughter and pirate-in-trainin' last night:
What do you do with a dirty pirate? (3x)
Make her take a bath!
Throw her in the tub and make her all soapy (3x)
Just before her bedtime!
I love whoever picked the photo to run with the story of the Nebraska state senator who is suing God: [link]
The halo imagery is awesome.
My assistent just came in to tell me the best actor to discuss today is Peter Sarsgard. Sarrrrsgarrd, the scurvy son of a hellbitch.
You did win a Curse Like A Pirate death match at 826 Valencia after all.
Why did we not hear this information before now???
No wonder you married her!
Why did we not hear this information before now???
Years of improv experience at the RenFaire in period dialect? She was kind of a ringer. She went into full rant mode and blew her challenger off the stage.
Emmet also won the peg-leg race. We've still got his prize crutch.
And on a more serious note...I'd like some hivemind etiquette advice.
As a not-yet-published writer, I find myself subject to lots of advice, wanted and unwanted, from people of varying levels of expertise. The one that always sets my teeth on edge is when people suggest I self-publish, because to me the implication is that I must not be good enough to be a REAL author, or I would've sold by now, so I might as well just give up and pay someone to print my book. And while I know there are a handful of cases of people who self-published and went on to mainstream success, they're rarer than rare, and in all cases I know of involved someone who was able to put a lot more time and energy into shilling their book than I have, what with the full-time job and the family.
But I think self-publication is a mistake 99.9% of the time for someone with my goal--to become a writer successful enough to quit my day job. And I need a polite way to say that. Particularly when the person suggesting it is self-published himself.