Mal ,'Our Mrs. Reynolds'
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.
Wow! Allyson, that's amazing! I'm very excited and happy for you.
Spanked--nope, not by my parents. My grandfather spanked the heck out of me once when he and Gram were babysitting, and I have a vague feeling that they were really angry at him for doing so.
Our receptionist has hiccups. It sounds like there's a startled rabbit in the front of the office.
A few times. Corwood, not at all. But I think that is harsh. But I won't think of you as Child Abuse Guy or anything.
When I was a kid I used to wet the bed. Once my dad woke me up in the middle of the night and told me to go to the bathroom. I stood in front of the toilet with my pants down but I didn't go. My dad told me to go and I still didn't. Then he swatted my behind once, and I proceeded to pee on the floor.
Apparently I was in some sleepwalking-like state, as the next morning I had no recollection of this at all.
Oh sweet Christ. They want me to come in for a two hour meeting this week.
How am I supposed to swing that? I guess I'll have to come up with an "appointment" of some kind.
Apparently I was in some sleepwalking-like state, as the next morning I had no recollection of this at all.
I used to have night terrors when I was in grade school, where I would be up pacing, agitated, eyes wide open and loudly describing why I was so worked up (sounded like stuff out of really bad dreams when it was relayed back to me - stuff like melting people down to make bullets). Never once did I have a recollection of it afterwards. I think it only happened a half dozen times, but it freaked my parents right the hell out.
They want me to come in for a two hour meeting this week.
Oh, but that's promising, right?
I guess I'll have to come up with an "appointment" of some kind.
I'm going to offer my old standby suggestion: plague.
How am I supposed to swing that? I guess I'll have to come up with an "appointment" of some kind.
This or call in sick.
I guess I'll have to come up with an "appointment" of some kind.
Tell your bosses that you stumbled on a portal behind some filing cabinets in the basement you work in and ended up in John Malkovich's head for seven minutes before being dumped on the highway outside of Chicago.
Go plague! Choose plague!