Anya ,'Touched'
[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.
Speaking of which, a classic baseball quote: ""What pressure?" Myers said. "No, not anymore. I probably used to [feel it], but not anymore. I just try to relax. Whatever's going to happen is going to happen. I just try to make pitches when I have to make pitches."
Study Buddhism. Be a baseball player.
Zen might have tobe the word.Sorry , David. We went to a concert tonight. -- at the silent film theater -- during the break they showed a Laural and hardy silent film. disaster= funny for them. any way we saw the Blusin roulettes tonight - a mendicino group --- listen to Bless my soul -- a bitches song if I ever heard one
funny - turns out there was a quake thatwe missed - mostly likely because we were demanding an encore
Study Buddhism. Be a baseball player.
Sounds like Captain Sisco.
Is it wrong that whenever I see a shot of Sarah Palin, the song Smiling Faces comes to mind?
ION: Bill O'Reilly wrote a fairly positive column about Obama: [link]
Huh. Did Governor Umbridge say something mean about Draco O'Reilly?
I think this might actually belong in Beep Me, but
Make the next four days count. They turn on the Large Hadron Collider on September 10th.
has anyone heard from VW?? A lil worried. I've been skimming a lil. But.
IOmeN. I played my first poker night at new job. Texas Hold'em (of course). I kinda hate that game. But I came in 3rd!! Doubled my money! $10. Bad news is, I gotta be at work tomorrow. :: sigh:: I shouldn't be. Grrrr.
So, rainy season?
Is RAINY.
Which is all well and good when you are (a) indoors or (b) in a taxi (except when the taxi starts to float), but not so good when you are (c) obliged to walk.
...
...
Seriously. At first I was squeaking with distress as my shoes filled with water when I stepped in an inch or two of puddle. A little later, as we were fording our way down the middle of the road almost knee-deep and my shoes were in danger of floating away, and I was alternating between howls of laughter and threatening assertions that the goddamn restaurant BETTER BE REALLY GOOD INDEED, I had a slightly better sense of perspective on those puddles. I was also trying really hard NOT to think about my coworker getting one of the thumb-sized cockroaches up his trousers when he did the same thing last year. It didn't occur to me to worry about snakes, though - which my friend, in her lovely high heels, was more than half expecting to stumble across.
Particularly impressive, back when we were trying to avoid walking calf-deep through the water, was the point at which all four of us (dressed up to the nines) flung umberellas over a fence and scrabbled over it, only to realise a few paces later that we were still going to have to plunge back into the water once we got to the end of this brief island of comparative dryness.
I can't remember laughing harder for Quite. Some. Time.
(By the time we left the restaurant, several hours later, the street was bone dry. Business as usual.)