OMG, Barb, think of the delicious, delicious inspiration!
And your ass would look awesome!
'Selfless'
[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.
OMG, Barb, think of the delicious, delicious inspiration!
And your ass would look awesome!
Oh DJ - that is an awesome book! I would love for Em and I to get that book. Especially for this summer. Which I will hopefully not be working.
It's a dirty job, but somebody's got to do it.
True dat. Also, the dancer boys with their tight little butts. Someone has to report back on those, right?
OMG, Barb, think of the delicious, delicious inspiration!
Jeebus, I'm envisioning my own version of Strictly Ballroom!
That's so cool, barb!
I'm honestly just stunned, y'all. I mean, I've been taking lessons for a month. I knew I was doing pretty well, but I just put that down to my background with band and skating and of course, music, but to be told I'm good enough at this point to consider competing.
It's kind of head-spinny.
Barb, you MUST.
Pix, if you could teleport up here, I wouldn't waste that time with you showing me how to exercise. There is serious catching up and flopping to do!
So very true.
I don't understand how anyone can get anything done without a list or five.
Jeebus, I'm envisioning my own version of Strictly Ballroom!
I LOVE it! What fun that would be...and what awesome pictures you could share.
In me news. I have something stuck in my craw that I must spit out.
On our walk this evening, Bartleby and I passed a local church that was hosting a charity event for our museum magnet school. (how cool is that)
Before we got within 25 feet of the place, a woman in an apron, who appeared to be with the catering company began yelling, "Get that dog away from me!" Seriously, we were no where near.
I stopped and had Bartleby sit next to me. In what I hoped was a compassionate voice, I asked if she had a bad experience with dogs and could talk with her about that.
She kept yelling.
A couple who were leaving the party, and who were obviously embarrassed for her, came over and chatted us up, petting the dog. At the same time, one of our dog park friends, also an attendee, walked up and tried to distract her.
I pulled Bartleby close to me and walked past, cheerfully greeting the friend. He tried to keep her attention, but she started up again with 'Get it away, get it away!'
We just kept going, but the longer we walked, the more peeved I got. Still, I understand about people's fears. So, on the way back, I took Bartleby to the other side of the street where she could not see him and had him sit next to a fence.
I crossed and asked which catering company she works for...in I SWEAR...a non-confrontational tone. She refused to say, twice. A fellow she works with told me the name of the person they work for but I can't find them on google.
On one hand, I want to offer a free in-service for the company on how to deal with dogs in public. On the other hand I want to suggest that anyone who is so freaked out should probably not be stationed on an urban street.
Lady. Take a pill.
Geez. I've been wary of dogs on leashes, but not when they aren't tugging and growling/barking, and that doesn't sound like you and Bartleby.
Aims and Em can sew Barb's costumes!
Bonny, I totally, totally get the frustration. She was overreacting like whoa, and it's really hard not to feel like you're being made the bad guy for doing nothing more than walking down the street. Having had rott-looking dogs most of my adult life I've certainly been there.
And since I know you, I know where this all is coming from, and what your intent was. But for someone who doesn't know you
I crossed and asked which catering company she works for...in I SWEAR...a non-confrontational tone.
I'm not sure how that could possibly come off as non-confrontational. In 99 out of a hundred situtations, people ask for company names or who they work for in order to file a complaint about them.
On the other hand I want to suggest that anyone who is so freaked out should probably not be stationed on an urban street.
And you're probably right about this. But not everyone wants their phobias diagnosed and treated on the sidewalk, you know?
It made me laugh actually. I hope you can see the humor and don't feel like I'm coming down on you. But you and Mr. B, so non-threatening and sincere, and she on the other hand shrieking, and no, that was just never going to end well.