I suspect a croquet mallet would be too fragile. Unless you had a special pink sparkly titanium zombie mallet made.
This is where I point out that my birthday is in November ...
Willow ,'Bring On The Night'
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, pandas, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
I suspect a croquet mallet would be too fragile. Unless you had a special pink sparkly titanium zombie mallet made.
This is where I point out that my birthday is in November ...
Can I get an FCM of womens please?
What do you call Queen Latifah, Sanaa, and Rita?
F Dean Winchester
C Mal Reynolds
M Raylan Givens
What do you call Queen Latifah, Sanaa, and Rita?
Too butch?
I am just going to F and M MGG, I have decided.
If I'm M-ing, I am damn sure F-ing
F Dean Winchester (all his family gets killed!)
C Raylan Givens
M Mal Reynolds
Those of you using a gun, don't forget the double tap.
No zombie methods. In this house, I would be doomed. It isn't defensible. Hell, the interior doors don't even latch.
Mosquito bite on my toe. How do they do that? I was doused in eau d'OFF!
I ultimately decided to C Mal because I think that Dean would be better in bed.
raises eyebrow suspiciously at Vortex
Jaye Davidson needs more pubic hair. And I don't say that much.
Actually that's a cropped shot. There's plenty of pubic hair just south of the edit.
What's an MGG?
Candy Darling is the woman with the penis. Famously immortalized in the Velvet Underground song "Candy Says" which created a whole sub-genre of "_____ Says" songs which have continued to this day.
I just realized recently that Eno's "Cindy Tells Me" is actually in that same sub-genre. (The sub-genre is basically songwriters reporting conversations of interesting women. FWIW.)
Okay FCM: Louise Brooks [link], Clara Bow [link], and Anna May Wong [link]
M Louise, F Clara, C Anna, I guess. I just know less about her.
My favorite story about Louise Brooks is that when she was down and out in the 1940s and struggling she wrote a letter to William Paley (founder of CBS) and said, "Hey, Bill. Remember that one wild weekend we had in the twenties? Can you help me out?"
And he did remember. And he paid her rent in Manhattan for the rest of her life.
I agree with Vortex's reasoning, but no one's good enough to be worth becoming monster chow by your second anniversary.