For the record, Columbine was my word. Sparked by things like this:
For a moment, everything that was awkward about high school would fade away and you could just say what was on your mind. It was as though parts of me were being healed whenever I did it, and I touched at least fifteen sets of boobs at Penguicon. It never got old, surprisingly.
Real charmer.
What is wrong with people?
ION, how to build your very own 12-sided meditation cube-thingie: [link]
They better watch themselves. If a stranger tried a breast grab on me, he'd be getting a swift kick to the groin.
What do all of the downtrodden women who were damaged by high school get to do to compensate?
This guy will sell you an Artistic License for $20.
I've been extremely happy with the results. Now when I show up at art openings, I just flash my ID -- I'm an artist! More free wine, please! Even at clubs I present my license as my identification... because, by gum, I'm an artist, just the kind of artist who would be fully licensed. Although this is not legal identification in the government's eyes, I have presented it on many occasional to security personnel who want "valid ID". More times than not, they take it! So, it must be valid.
What do all of the downtrodden women who were damaged by high school get to do to compensate?
Kick someone in the nuts?
I couldn't see that lj entry, fyi...
What do all of the downtrodden women who were damaged by high school get to do to compensate?
We are issued factory-fresh steel-toed boots shortly before the ass-kicking begins.
I couldn't see that lj entry, fyi...
Really? It's not locked.
What do all of the downtrodden women who were damaged by high school get to do to compensate?
I think the technical term is "cockpunch". Cures many ills.
I think I'd want to avoid getkickedinthenutscon, especially if they were handing out steel toed boots at the door.