I just said that you're pretty. Even when you're covered in...engine grease, you're... No, especially, especially when you're covered in engine grease.

Simon ,'Jaynestown'


Natter 54: Right here, dammit.  

Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.


-t - Oct 30, 2007 12:47:30 pm PDT #9379 of 10001
I am a woman of various inclinations and only some of the time are they to burn everything down in frustration

You should win something for being the last member of the team, Jilli. Something other than all the work the team does, I mean.


Glamcookie - Oct 30, 2007 12:49:02 pm PDT #9380 of 10001
I know my own heart and understand my fellow man. But I am made unlike anyone I have ever met. I dare to say I am like no one in the whole world. - Anne Lister

I like the term "terror doors."


tommyrot - Oct 30, 2007 12:51:14 pm PDT #9381 of 10001
Sir, it's not an offence to let your cat eat your bacon. Okay? And we don't arrest cats, I'm very sorry.

I should get a "terror desk," which I will hide under if the situation warrants.


Ginger - Oct 30, 2007 12:56:06 pm PDT #9382 of 10001
"It didn't taste good. It tasted soooo horrible. It tasted like....a vodka martini." - Matilda

And a new bomb alarm procedure. If somebody phones or mails in a bomb threat, the alarm is sounded and we have to;

Remain in the building - Look for the bomb. Including - Bins - Cupboards - Raise the alarm if we find it

I'd be willing to keep an eye out for suspicious objects on my way out of the building, but that's about it.


Sheryl - Oct 30, 2007 1:28:41 pm PDT #9383 of 10001
Fandom means never having to say "But where would I wear that?"

Timelies all!

I guess I'm dusting off my vampire bat earings tomorrow...


megan walker - Oct 30, 2007 1:29:27 pm PDT #9384 of 10001
"What kind of magical sunshine and lollipop world do you live in? Because you need to be medicated."-SFist

I was supposed to go to a "dress as your favorite dead person" party this weekend, and my big plan was not to dress up, and just name someone at random if anyone asked who I was supposed to be.

Wear a really long scarf and go as Isadora Duncan:

A habitual wearer of flowing scarves which trailed behind her, Duncan's fashion preferences were the cause of her death in a freak automobile accident in Nice, France, on the night of September 14, 1927 at the age of 50. The accident gave rise to Gertrude Stein's mordant remark that "affectations can be dangerous."

Duncan was a passenger in the Amilcar automobile of a handsome young Italian mechanic, Benoît Falchetto, whom she had ironically nicknamed 'Buggatti' [sic]... Before getting into the car, she said to a friend, Mary Desti, and some companions, "Adieu, mes amis. Je vais à la gloire!" ("Goodbye, my friends, I am off to glory!") However, according to the diaries of the American novelist Glenway Wescott, who was in Nice at the time and visited Duncan's body in the morgue (his diaries are in the collection of the Beineke Library at Yale University), Desti admitted that she had lied about Duncan's last words. Instead, she told Wescott, the dancer actually said, "Je vais à l'amour" ("I am off to love"), which Desti considered too embarrassing to go down in history as the legend's final utterance, especially since it suggested that Duncan hoped that she and Falchetto were going to her hotel for a sexual assignation. Whatever her actual last words, when Falchetto drove off, Duncan's immense handpainted silk scarf, which was a gift from Desti and was large enough to be wrapped around her body and neck and flutter out of the car, became entangled around one of the vehicle's open-spoked wheels and rear axle. Duncan died on the scene.

As The New York Times noted in its obituary of the dancer on 15 September 1927, "The automobile was going at full speed when the scarf of strong silk began winding around the wheel and with terrific force dragged Miss Duncan, around whom it was securely wrapped, bodily over the side of the car, precipitating her with violence against the cobblestone street. She was dragged for several yards before the chauffeur halted, attracted by her cries in the street. Medical aid was summoned, but it was stated that she had been strangled and killed instantly."[4]


Daisy Jane - Oct 30, 2007 1:39:14 pm PDT #9385 of 10001
"This bar smells like kerosene and stripper tears."

Oh! There's a country band at the office playing "Red River Valley"!


Theodosia - Oct 30, 2007 2:11:57 pm PDT #9386 of 10001
'we all walk this earth feeling we are frauds. The trick is to be grateful and hope the caper doesn't end any time soon"

I'm surprised that you all didn't know about Duncan's sad end. I thought she had been decapitated, though.

I had to tell somebody in my programming class about lemmings. What are they teaching kids these days, anyway? I immediately followed it up with the additional info that they only rarely actually leap to their deaths, like when they're panicked by movie documentarians, if not actually bodily tossed off cliffs by them.


lori - Oct 30, 2007 2:15:46 pm PDT #9387 of 10001

That's a very "NO CAPES!!" kind of story. Awesome.


Trudy Booth - Oct 30, 2007 2:19:59 pm PDT #9388 of 10001
Greece's financial crisis threatens to take down all of Western civilization - a civilization they themselves founded. A rather tragic irony - which is something they also invented. - Jon Stewart

Duncan was a passenger in the Amilcar automobile of a handsome young Italian mechanic, Benoît Falchetto, whom she had ironically nicknamed 'Buggatti'

What does "Buggatti" mean? What endearment do you pick for a lover who already shares his name with a sex toy?