What could I possibly help you with in re: your work?
Sticking labels on Christmas card envelopes.
[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.
What could I possibly help you with in re: your work?
Sticking labels on Christmas card envelopes.
Sticking labels on Christmas card envelopes.
Oh.
You are of the suck.
{{Teppy}} that comment - its phrasing in particular - boggles. Everyone before me is wise. I don't have anything to add to the paddywacking pile except some diapers. Want?
Owen is wonderful.
Fuzzy monsters, gothy rag dolls, plush bats, AND a croquet mallet.
Cube-trapped graphic designers everywhere are jealous.
You are of the suck.
I am also of the sorry.
ION - aaagh. I don't _like_ the stumbleupon toolbar. I keep hitting it accidentally (so at least I'm not accidentally hitting 'disable' on my web dev toolbar) and it is DOING Things when I don't want it to do things. Mom! Stumbleupon KEEEEEPS TOUCH-ING ME!!! Make it stop!
I am also of the sorry.
Grrf.
Well, dammit, how can I be mad at you when you look at me with those eyes? That I can't see. Except in my head.
...
STOP STARING AT ME!!
Well, dammit, how can I be mad at you when you look at me with those eyes? That I can't see. Except in my head.
*smooch* Love you.
My job is apparently to hit every store I can for chocolate, opiates, and basal thermometers.
Damn, I'm spending the Apocalypse with Jilli.
Although I'm suspicious of the basal thermometers. Are they like, rectal thermometers? However, I suppose if one has to spend the Apocalypse with something stuck up one's ass, it's best to do it with a quantity of chocolate and opiates.
(A basal thermometer goes in your mouth. I was freaked out too at first.)
I was thinking, "A thermometer to measure spice temperature?"