That was probably wrong of me.
Doesn't sound like it to me.
I'm really glad you don't have reasons to be around him in the future, Aims. Yikes.
[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.
That was probably wrong of me.
Doesn't sound like it to me.
I'm really glad you don't have reasons to be around him in the future, Aims. Yikes.
we contributed to the economic downfall of the US and now Greece
Boy, I'm kind of mad about you about that, too. Well, not about the US. But Greece -- look, you're just fucking with the world's supply of really good ouzo. And THAT WILL NOT STAND.
You were definitely there when the Titanic went down. I saw you.
Ugh, Aims. I'll be more than happy to tell him to fuck off. Then he can bitch and moan about your foreign-named, over-educated friend who works with the crooks in DC. That should hopefully cause enough ranting and raving to give him a serious case of heartburn and angina.
edited because werds mattur!
You were definitely there when the Titanic went down. I saw you.
She's like a cross between Tino and a Time Lord.
look, you're just fucking with the world's supply of really good ouzo. And THAT WILL NOT STAND.
Oh yeah? Well, too bad. Put a piece of licorice in a shot of vodka and you'll be a'right.
I'll be more than happy to tell him to fuck off.
Bring your sassy ass out here! The awesome thing? HIS WIFE? Yeah - works at the Pentagon.
She's like a cross between Tino and a Time Lord.
I like to call myself "Sawyer". Or James. Whichever.
Aims, I want you to know I hold you personally responsible for having a fantastic rack, a brilliant smile, stylish haircuts and a devastating snark.
It's all your fault.
My sassy ass was just out there! I flew back on Wednesday. If I would have known, I would have driven past Belleville and given him a steaming pile of Italian-flavored hell. Now with extra capers and hot peppers!
His wife works at the Pentagon? I suppose it's the only way to make that marriage work - 900 miles between.
(And if I'm out of line, just say so. Believe me, I know how fraught with crap family dynamics can be.)
Aims, I want you to know I hold you personally responsible for having a fantastic rack, a brilliant smile, stylish haircuts and a devastating snark.
My rack is pretty damned fantastic.
Maria - you are hereby ordered to make your presence known next time you are only TEN MILES away from me at any given time. And no worries - no out of line-ness a'tall.