$325 for a door knocker? Pass.
But but but ... BATS!
Fred ,'A Hole in the World'
[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.
$325 for a door knocker? Pass.
But but but ... BATS!
I think I used to see things like that in junk shops going for 50p.
With the letter slot?
It's the letter slot that makes it.
Yeah, with the letter slot, but lacking the bat.
Anyway, unless those things have good spring-loading they rattle like fuck when there's a stiff breeze.
Plei, I hope you're happy. I have "Church of Hot Addiction" stuck in my head, and it's ALL YOUR FAULT.
Anyway, unless those things have good spring-loading they rattle like fuck when there's a stiff breeze.
The knocker or the slot? I've got an old mail slot, and it doesn't rattle a bit. Of course, I also have a screen/storm door.
Plei, I hope you're happy. I have "Church of Hot Addiction" stuck in my head, and it's ALL YOUR FAULT.
G.A.B.E is the drug you can't deny.
HEY HEY HEY. His light is, in fact, electric.
He's got electric eyes.
And, has he mentioned, he can get you high?
Being, of course, the drug you can't deny.
I love that silly song so much.
I am not supposed to have Cobra Starship songs stuck in my head. I still blame you.
My friend's funeral was yesterday: the saddest one I've been to so far. Each of us got a white rose to put on her grave at the end. The whole thing was good for me - that day, I started process her death, and stop expecting someone to tell me it just was a huge, horrible mistake. I got the chance to say goodbye. And after it... well, I thought I'll never stop being so sad. But it got a little bit better this morning. I don't feel entirely incompetent doing nothing but sit and be sad anymore. In fact, I'm taking a break from kitchen cleaning right now, and will henna my hair later. Not quite the massive cleaning I planned for this weekend, but I'm doing what I can.
A bunch of friends is gonna do a get together which isn't a shiv'ah. To tell stories, to comfort each other. I didn't want to go there at first, but now I'm thinking it might be nice. Hell, I even got the skirt for it, as shallow as it might seem(s?), and I consider bringing there something alcoholic. Or at least cookies.
Shir, I'm so sorry.
{{{{Shir}}}}
Daniel is snoring. Occasionally he takes a break from that and starts talking. Sometimes it actually makes sense, like asking what we want to do about breakfast. Sometimes he's muttering about cricket bats, yet denying he is having a zombie dream.
{{{{{Shir}}}}}
I do admit it is rather tacky. But but but, spaaaaarrrkly! And a bat!
And thus the power of its appeal.
Barb, now I'm all Pensacola nostalgic. I tolerated living there until I moved here. Then I realized some of what it had to offer. [sigh] I miss local charm.