Oh, wait. The transporter isn't finished. Damn.
Nag, nag, nag...
'Heart Of Gold'
[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.
Oh, wait. The transporter isn't finished. Damn.
Nag, nag, nag...
If the shoe fits...
If the shoe fits...
With stripey tights and a candy bra....must be stilleto platform hooker heels. In red.
Unless there is some strict definition of literature that says "It must be communicated more-or-less directly from the creative source of the story with minimal interference by any mediators (so editors are okay), else it is Not Literature."
If this were the problem, then Shakespeare's out of the running for being Literature. He was alla time scavanging other people's stories and running amok with them.
With stripey tights and a candy bra....must be stilleto platform hooker heels. In red.
It should be noted that, at the time of the sartorial adventure in question, the footwear was red Converse high-tops. There is photographic evidence of this.
I'm the one that wears the red hooker heels.
I'm so proud.
I'm the one that wears the red hooker heels.
And he gets real bitchy if you wear the same shoes. He's all "You stole my look, slut" and I'm all "You don't own this look, whore!" and then he's all "Get off my corner!" and I'm all "Shit, Big Louise was here first and she gave me this corner!"
And then we do that thing where your head wiggles in a circle on top of your neck. Well, he does it; I can't, it makes my neck hurt.
I do the three snaps in a "Z" formation.
Amok! Amokamokamokamokamok! Amok!
Don't worry. Am OK.
Amok!
And now Aimee is proud with me.