Now!
Wash: Well, I wash my hands of it. It's a hopeless case. I'll read a nice poem at the funeral. Something with imagery. Zoe: You could lock the door and keep the power-hungry maniac at bay. Wash: Oh, no, I'm starting to like this poetry idea now. Here lies my beloved Zoe, my autumn flower, somewhat less attractive now she's all corpsified and gross...
'Shindig'
Spike's Bitches 40: Buckle Up, Kids! Daddy's Puttin' the Hammer Down.
[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.
Laura - May 21, 2008 5:58:56 pm PDT #10000 of 10001
Our wings are not tired.
P.M. Marc - May 21, 2008 7:14:58 pm PDT #10001 of 10001
So come, my friends, be not afraid/We are so lightly here/It is in love that we are made; In love we disappear
This thread is done. Head over to megan walker "Spike's Bitches 41: Thrown together to stand against the forces of darkness" May 21, 2008 9:13:40 pm PDT and carry on my wayward sons.