Okay, first 1,143 words are off to the awesome beta readers. I'm going to go put on some makeup now. Thank you for the cheerleading!
Dawn: Any luck? Willow: If you define luck as the absence of success--plenty.
'Touched'
Spike's Bitches 45: That sure as hell wasn't in the brochure.
[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.
Atropa - May 30, 2010 2:48:25 pm PDT #20883 of 30000
The artist formerly associated with cupcakes.
Cass - May 30, 2010 2:48:28 pm PDT #20884 of 30000
Bob's learned to live with tragedy, but he knows that this tragedy is one that won't ever leave him or get better.
If it's not very good at shipping things that can't just be shoved in an envelope, randomly stamped and tossed in a box, you could call it the Cass.
sj - May 30, 2010 2:49:56 pm PDT #20885 of 30000
"There are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea."
Yay, Jilli! It sounds wonderful!
Miracleman - May 30, 2010 3:17:04 pm PDT #20886 of 30000
No, I don't think I will - me, quoting Captain Steve Rogers, to all of 2020
"Fire, dammit! Why aren't you firing?!"
Justin gesticulated wildly, yet ineffectively, at the approaching horde of brass-bound Ticky-Tocks, the clockwork killers of the dreaded Doctor Bronze. The whirring and clanking of their gear-driven march was growing louder as they advanced, unstoppable, across the marble floor of the Grand Ballroom. Not even the rich velvet curtains covering the windows could muffle the cacophony of their grinding advance.
When no decimating volley of gunfire was forthcoming despite Justin's high-pitched exhortations and wild, yet, as mentioned, ineffective gesticulations, he turned to see what Professor Happenstance was doing.
The professor was hunched over, sweating profusely and working the gears on his hand-held arm-length gatling-style firearm, while the lovely Miss Norrup blew frantically on the embers held in the lower cage of the fire-pack the professor bore on his back. "The flame's gone out!" the professor cried. "There's no pressure for the gun!"
Justin had just enough time to mutter "Bloody steam-driven guns" before his life was snuffed out by a metallic spring-driven hand propelling itself through his skull with terrific force.
Atropa - May 30, 2010 3:31:11 pm PDT #20887 of 30000
The artist formerly associated with cupcakes.
marks MM's post for "inspiration".
Miracleman - May 30, 2010 3:32:37 pm PDT #20888 of 30000
No, I don't think I will - me, quoting Captain Steve Rogers, to all of 2020
Hee!
Zenkitty - May 30, 2010 3:47:19 pm PDT #20889 of 30000
Every now and then, I think I might actually be a little odd.
"Inspiration" is a good name for a dirigible.
Cass, e me your postal addy, and I shall send you a literate simian.
Cass - May 30, 2010 3:51:04 pm PDT #20890 of 30000
Bob's learned to live with tragedy, but he knows that this tragedy is one that won't ever leave him or get better.
Insent. Because I'll listen.
smonster - May 30, 2010 5:38:20 pm PDT #20891 of 30000
We won’t stop until everyone is gay.
Zen, my phone didn't ring, and I have no missed calls. Must have been wihout signal. Glad you got some things done, and I'd love to play the productivity game tomorrow via email, chat, phone, or board post.
I've been through it before, with other friends, so I may be overreacting. But I think it's better to care too much.
My rule is to take any mention seriously. And yes, asking about plans is key. Or, what everyone else said.
I just watched Sherlock Holmes for the first time. Bloody brilliant. Although I'm afraid it did nothing to shift my opinion of Rachel McAdams to the positive. Oh well.
And Miracleman, I read your whole passage aloud to amyth's guffaws. I then inquired of the heavens why you were not yet rich beyond imagining. Sadly, I received no reply.
Aims - May 30, 2010 5:40:37 pm PDT #20892 of 30000
Shit's all sorts of different now.
I then inquired of the heavens why you were not yet rich beyond imagining.
A question I ask constantly. I also receive no reply.