Stop shooting people in the face.
Never!
[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.
Stop shooting people in the face.
Never!
Never!
Well, then you better become the Vice President if you want to get away with it.
Notice how I didn't wish that all Vice Presidents should suffer. I kept my rant tightly focused without a broad generalization.
Hec wins at the internets today.
Is he in the hospital? I'm going to have to gloat in the suffering of my enemy.
I have no wish for Dick Cheney to be happy or healthy, but whenever he's in the hospital it fucks up my mom's workday something awful. (He gets treated in his own wing of the hospital where she works, and the security procedures are a huge PITA.)
Just one more reason to hate.
Shanie bear! Oh so cute. He has such bright, intelligent eyes, and I just want to nuzzle his wee nose.
Steph, if it's any consolation, during one of my visits to the ER the person in the next cubicle was being treated for ... constipation. No one seemed too upset with her for wasting their time.
I don't normally do that.
Your mom's given you some practice.
Heh, yeah. We're in a funny, mildly passive-aggressive place right now. I am currently, honestly really busy and stressed, and I have had no desire to call home and potentially add more stress to my life, so I haven't called. But when I was sick, my mom did send me a couple e-mails asking if I was better (the first was flouncy, so I didn't respond, but the second was simple, so I did), and now we communicate through short e-mails, which is nice. But, amusingly enough, whenever she calls and leaves me a voicemail now, she prefaces it with "I'm only calling because of X," deliberately not bringing up any other sore subjects. I have yet to see whether she would avoid them on an actual phone call. I suspect not, but we'll see. Maybe she's slowly, slowly learning.
I really don't understand how most of my tenants function in the real world sometimes. If you want to know if the washer is fixed either call the effing number on it or try to run a load. NOT OUR MACHINE.
Jeebus. Some of these people can't be arsed to fill out a piece of paperwork to save their effing apartment, but the instance something they want to use isn't available and they flip the fuck out.
Steph, if it's any consolation, during one of my visits to the ER the person in the next cubicle was being treated for ... constipation. No one seemed too upset with her for wasting their time.
I actually don't care about that as much as being embarrassed to admit to co-workers (and you guys) that I was all freaked out over gas pains or something.
And I will be equally embarrassed if it is, in fact, heart stuff. This is a no-win situation for me.