Okay, am I the only bitch whose hotcakes-of-love aren't getting buttered?
t does NGA handshake w/fay
[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.
Okay, am I the only bitch whose hotcakes-of-love aren't getting buttered?
t does NGA handshake w/fay
t checks wallet for secret handshake instructions
Ah, yes.
t performs secret handshake.
I seem to have joined a church choir. Which, I suppose, would make me an unofficial member of the church, no?
Now I am debating whether or not to go the gym.
Go on! Go to the gym! I know it sounds like an effort, but actually you'll get that fabulous endorphin rush AND a sense of gleeful smugness at the same time!
If you go to the gym I'll go to the gym. Later.
And really, abi, I have to go to gym. I start my next level of classes tuesday and I suspect Sensei Lopez (that still makes me giggle) is going to hurt me a lot.
I've been doing 4 times a week, so I am familiar with the endorphin rush, which, yes, is nice.
But, as you were the first to respond, I shall go to the gym, then I shall go to Target.
I'll leap on the bandwagon and go to the gym today, too!
I used to think the endorphin rush was a myth. I've since been corrected.
(Sorry, didn't mean to imply that you weren't familiar with the endorphin thing; from your post I just assumed you needed convincing that the gym was a good idea - thus the cheerleading. Which is probably just me projecting, since I urgently need to get my own arse down to the gym, stat, and the above is the kind of thing I need to remind myself.
But you're not me, and fair play to you. I still say, yes, gym before Target. You can work out for me while you're there, eh?)
I really prefer the steam room to the actual gym part. I've become addicted to the schvitz.
Anne, you and your family are in the Janes' thoughts.
Debetesse went to the gym.
As she did so, she called me and said "what do you mean LATER?!?!?"
Pfft. I have things to do. And she is SO not the boss of me.
(Well, she is the boss of me in certain strictly limited capacities. Not drunk dialing particular boys. And she and Hil think they get to cut me off when I've had too many juleps... that was sort of a group-Buffista effort, actually. Brendon physically took the last one and drank it. Great American, that one... really threw himself on a grenade there by being gigantic and STEALING MY DRINK)