Good morning all.
Annabel is quite lovely in her Easter dress. Also, quite the lady in her Palm Sunday dress. It was nice to hear that the music was so perfect.
I've never watched QVC. You people have talked me into watching many things, but this I think I can resist.
Gronkily I gronk.
If Mike Rowe ever goes back to QVC, I might start watching.
I am so glad I'm notthe only person to watch QVC for no reason in particular. I've never bought anything but I like to watch it when I'm sleepy.
So, strangely enough, I was (tentatively) asked to MC the Masquerade at a local con in October.
The guy who asked me saw me onstage, like, 9,000 years ago, but said he "likes my stage presence".
I hope I still have stage presence. I think I may have sold my stage presence in a yard sale 5 years ago.
I suppose watching QVC isn't any weirder than watching the Preview channel for an hour because it was more interesting than any of the other channels.
{{{Scrappy}}} I'm so sorry. ~ma to you and yours.
MiracleMan without stage presence? Unpossible.
MiracleMan without stage presence? Unpossible.
Being a loud drunk is not the same.
...as I found out during an unfortunate Improvisation Incident.
No wonder he can be so calm about inseminating livestock.
Not the weirdest job he ever had.
And all roads really do lead to Baltimore...it was the Balmer opera.
He says he joined to meet women.
I swear, any guy who thinks women don't think or talk nasty(nobody here, of course) should read some of the stuff fangirls say about Keith Olbermann or Mike Rowe. In either case, the innocent pleasure of a butterscotch sundae has either been completely scuttled or absolutely enhanced. Depends how close it is to lunch at the time.(Why butterscotch? Don't know. Some sexologist should study that shit.)ETA: Blushworthy MM crosspost. I bet you do have a presence. Have only moderately thought about you in ice cream topping though. But I know the Discovery Channel would freak about "fuckcake". I like it though.
ETA: Laga, I know, I was not looking for that. I have ducked Obama Fever and already spend hours on Friday nights on a fangirl blog. I have no need of another fake boyfriend. But then there was this writer's strike...one thing led to another, and no "House" on Tuesday. And then I was in...daggone it. If I had his job, I'd be a compulsive hand-washer.
Speaking of my crazy fannishness, I'm sure I was the only one who read that review of 300, thinking both "Step off Bushy top," and that he might live hard for thirty-seven.(He could still lie to me with impunity, though. It's the eyebrows.)