My least favorite? "oh, someone can probably help you," And then all the Someones develop old football injuries(Not that I'm blaming them...most of them don't know they're on the spot, anyway.) But still.
Spike's Bitches 44: It's about the rules having changed.
[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.
Working nearish to Old Street station
I'm in Camden. Drink should be possible.
My least favorite? "oh, someone can probably help you," And then all the Someones develop old football injuries
Best response to that one: "You are not lifting me up those steps. My joints dislocate. Also, you'll only have to sue me when you end up in, well, a wheelchair."
Drink should be possible.
Woohoo!
I'm free... basically all the time. Also I work flexi time, so even working hours are okay for me. And so I don't work myself into the dreadful category of unthinking venue-pickers, it's entirely up to you where and when. My profile addy is good. Also I haven't been to Camden yet! Excited.
And so I don't work myself into the dreadful category of unthinking venue-pickers, it's entirely up to you where and when.
Hee. Very kind. I shall seek out your e-mail addy via profile (or mine is in my profile).
I'm in Camden. Drink should be possible.
Among other things--mostly shoes and pot.
and hair wraps. With bells.
(notthatigotoneincamdenin1993)
shoes and pot
Coats. Bags. Home-made dresses. Fortune-telling. Drunk people playing their car radio at 2am beneath my window, so loudly that I can hear every sodding overblown note of Whitney Houston's 'I Have Nothing'.
Verily, I live in the land of plenty.
Drunk people playing their car radio at 2am beneath my window, so loudly that I can hear every sodding overblown note of Whitney Houston's 'I Have Nothing'.
This just made me snort tea up my nose.
This just made me snort tea up my nose.
That was very much not my reaction at 2am last night.
(I don't think he realises that this is going to go into my research into churches and disability.)
At the synagogue nearest my apartment, there are three steps to get into the building, a flight of stairs to get to the main sanctuary, and then another flight to get to the women's balcony. No elevator. The next-closest one is held at the JCC, which is a newer building with decent accessibility, but the services are usually on the second floor, and there are always several Obviously Disapproving People if you use the elevator on Shabbat without having some clear visible reason why you're using it.