'Shindig'
[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.
these little country back roads (the weather was above 70 a week ago) with leafy trees and pastures. Beautiful and I thought you would love it.
Oooooh, I like those, too. Thanks for thinking of me!
Being in the hospital was like being on an airplane...for four days. Without even airplane food.
DUDE. I'm so glad you're home now!
sign number 389 I just might need more sleep/time off: Preparing company credit card statements. Looking at my spread sheet, and looking at Mastercard statement. Totals are different. I went through both lists a bunch of times, adding them both up, and getting the totals the sheet said, but couldn't figure out for the life of me, why they were different. About 30 minutes later, I realize the last item, on the spread sheet, I entered the cost of the item, but forgot the sales tax. Mind you, there are only 9 entries, so it's not like I had this long list of hell. Can I go home now??
Tons of healing~ma to Raq, and emotional-coping~ma to Mal.
It's so good to see your pixels back, DJ!
And WOOT for Nora and Tom in California.
I'm glad you're home safe, Raq. Hospitals are terrible places to feel bad. Coping~ma to Mal.
I feel worse. I shouldn't have gone to the grocery store, because when I'm sick, I just want ice cream, ginger snaps and carbonated stuff.
omnis, I give you permission to go home. You may also stop by the Vine and tell Mr. Jane that you have a beer on us. I think he's open by now.
JZ, it's nice to be back. I'm actually supposed to be cleaning right now, but it's cold and rainy and generally ookie and I have little Oz curled up in my lap, so it's internets and coffee for me.
Ouch! My chiropractor was rough on me today, and I'm so sore.
Randomness from my officemate today: we were, for some reason, discussing heart attacks, and he said that several members of his family had died from heart attacks that seemed to come out of nowhere. I said that my great-uncle had died of a heart attack at age 35, at Thanksgiving dinner. He asked how long ago this was. I thought for a second and said it was 1946. He said, "Wow, 1946 must have been a bad time to be Jewish." My look must have projected the "Huh?" I was thinking, because he asked, "Was he a Holocaust survivor?" I said no, he grew up in New Hampshire. He said, "Well, I guess that makes it better."
omnis, I give you permission to go home. You may also stop by the Vine and tell Mr. Jane that you have a beer on us. I think he's open by now.DJ, welcome back! How ya feelin' over there? Job prospects? How is super seekrit project for Mr. Jane doing? I'd love to head to the vine for a beer, free or otherwise, but I'm still fighting off this flu thing. Somehow, I don't think it would help my immune system. I need to get home and climb under covers and veg. Tomorrow is opening night. I told boss man I'm thinking of skipping the festivities. Not only have I had enough with the show, but I still feel like shit, so why stay up in the cold & rain, right?
oh, dear lord, Hil.
Can I go home now??
Yes.
(See how I avoided entering furniture into the post?)
Also. I'm never making chestnut soup again. I spent almost two hours peeling the motherfuckers.