But I was hardly the model group member for that group of Birth Survivors due to my disquieting tendency to blurt out things like "Okay, who'd you fuck?" I wasn't wrong. But that just made it worse.This is one of the many reasons I t heart Erika.
[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.
But I was hardly the model group member for that group of Birth Survivors due to my disquieting tendency to blurt out things like "Okay, who'd you fuck?" I wasn't wrong. But that just made it worse.This is one of the many reasons I t heart Erika.
But I was hardly the model group member for that group of Birth Survivors due to my disquieting tendency to blurt out things like "Okay, who'd you fuck?"
Someday I'll turn gay and we'll run away to Denmark and get gay married.
Cool...reverse diaspora's fine with me. Full circle and all that(great-grandpa came from Copenhagen) And they never watched television, either. Ever. What can I talk to people like that about? Especially if they don't appreciate a good murder. I'm out, then, you know. It's how we roll in Munchkinland. Deflecting personal questions with jokes since 1978.
You can get gay married in Massachusetts! I heart my state.
Maybe we'll murder someone!
checks Gay Agenda, which was acquired through GOP website
No, no, no, I'm sorry. You can't go to Denmark to get gay-married. You have to go to Massachusetts. On ... lemme see...Gay Pride's that weekend, AIDS awareness that weekend, then there's Folsom...there's time in October. That work for you guys?
Wait. This is the Gay Itinerary. Dammit.
Sleeping Annabel: [link]
When we put her to bed, Clifford and Kitty were tucked next to her and were NOT wearing party hats. She was also under a sheet and a quilt, which ended up on the floor and out of sight.
After my mom was diagnosed with ALS (well, actually, at some point after she lost the use of her legs), my parents put me in counseling. I was 12, and all the counselor really wanted me to say was that my father was sexually abusing me. Which couldn't have been farther from the truth, and made me absolutely distrust all psychological counseling for years and years.
That sounds like the time I went to a counselor in college to talk about my issues with my mom, and all she wanted to talk about was why I didn't have a girlfriend. Never went back.
I borrowed the Wicked soundtrack from the library. It was not true love at first listen. But I had it on repeat b/c the radio was boring on my way to/from AC. Now I'm addicted, and can't get the songs out of my head!
Ok, Lehane country it is. I'll shock my cousins some other time. Wicked cool, huh?