Lurkers represent!

ehab: This thread is like having Buffista training wheels.

SolangeK: (snerks so hard she accidentally delurks)

Even a nice Chianti won't wash this one down (from Natter).

Jesse: Even my crunchiest home-birthing friend didn't eat her placenta, although she thought about it....

Billytea: If her placenta was crunchy, she has bigger problems than deciding whether she could finish a whole one.

Aims: In Natter:

Once the placenta decides to evolve and figure out a way to make it so that I can smoke and drink and get high during my pregnancy without possibly fucking up my baby, I'll be more than happy to stuff it, but it an outfit, and put it on my shelf. But until then, it gets a merry "Thank you" and tossed in the biohazard bag at the end of the day.

Can't argue with that.

Can't argue with that.

If Aims has dressed it up and put it on a shelf, I reserve the right to argue with it.

In Bitches:

DCJensen: Why are the bells across the street at the episcopal cathedral playing Frère Jacques at 9 am on a Sunday morning?

omnis_audis: Because Paperback Writer was too difficult?

Gudanov: I've been doing house painting and it is taking a lot of time. Our house suddenly seems bigger.

billytea: Just how thickly are you applying the coats, Gud?

Gudanov About two feet, just the right amount to protect against most siege engines.

Snagged from Bureaucracy:

Trudy Booth quoting Shir: I achieved new bra today, and you know what? I don't think I'll EVER be tired of hearing compliments on my boobs

tommyrot: Um... did you mean to put Shir's boobs in Bureau?

brenda m: If so, I vote yes.

tommyrot: A vote for Shir's boobs is a vote for freedom!

Jon B.: If you vote against Shir's boobs, the terrorists win!

ChiKat: I second Shir's boobs.

Shir: Yes!

Bless you, my dears. I never thought my boobs will make it here. It's an exciting day for us.

Polter-Cow: When do we open Light Boobs?

Curious to see how long it takes Trudy Booth Boobs to notice she posted that in Bureaucracy.

Fay, in Delurking, with a hat-tip to Shakespeare:

Spike's will! I pray thee, just one lurker more.
By Joss, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my scone;
It frets me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things tittilate my desires.
And if it be a sin to covet olives,
I am the most offending soul alive.
Yes, faith, my friends, wish yet a man from England.
God's peace! I would not miss this great delurking
For one man more methinks would share with me
In the best home I have. O, do still wish one more!
And still proclaim it, 'ffistas, through the net,
That he which hath no stomach for olives,
Let him yet come; his passport shall be made,
And muffulettas given not to him;
We would still wish for that man's company
That fears his welcome should he speak with us.
This day is call'd the feast of Cilantro.
He that delurks this day, and finds new home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Cilantro.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Cilantro.'
Then will he strip his shirt to show a corset,
And say 'This gift I got on Delurk day.'
Old fen forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
ita the Great, JZ and Polter-Cow,
Smonster and amych, Jilli and Allyson
Be in their fernet cups freshly rememb'red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And fair October shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of buggers
For he to-day that shares his name with me
Shall be a bugger; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods tight whiles any speaks
That delurked here upon Delurking Day.