Why I get off plane? Next year I'm taking myself to ny and having a bash of a good time for my 40th I tell you what.
That's one spunky little girl you've raised. I'm gonna eat her.
The Mayor ,'End of Days'
Natter 69: Practically names itself.
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
Allyson - Mar 25, 2012 4:30:33 pm PDT #28078 of 30001
Wait, is this real-world child support, where the money goes to buy food for the kids, or MRA fantasyland child support where the women just buy Ferraris and cocaine? -Jessica
Jesse - Mar 25, 2012 4:37:30 pm PDT #28079 of 30001
Sometimes I trip on how happy we could be.
I am here if you want to get away for a drink!
msbelle - Mar 25, 2012 4:56:02 pm PDT #28080 of 30001
I remember the crazy days. 500 posts an hour. Nubmer! Natgbsb
I would very much like to go to NY with Allyson and raise hell. just saying.
Speaking of NY, I gave up my US Open tickets. sad, but $1K that I really could not justify spending. I think either a festival in Austin or NO or maybe both will get added to my schedule in the coming years.
An afternoon in the shade on my back patio turns out to be just what I needed. I did do a little tiny bit of cleaning by sweeping the patio and a wee bot of yard work by planting two flower pots, but really I just played on the interwebs and read a kid's book.
Typo Boy - Mar 25, 2012 5:04:13 pm PDT #28081 of 30001
Calli: My people have a saying. A man who trusts can never be betrayed, only mistaken.Avon: Life expectancy among your people must be extremely short.
I can occasionally be indecisive when in line in a new-to-me place. But I have a phrase for those occasions: "I'm still deciding, why don't you go ahead of me?"
SuziQ - Mar 25, 2012 5:08:49 pm PDT #28082 of 30001
Back tattoos of the mother is that you are absolutely right - Ame
We moved the new couch into the living room. This thing is HUGE! Right now we have the new large sectional curved couch (cost me less than $40) and our old decent sized couch in the living room. The recliner is shoved into the dining area. Anyone who has seen my apartment - it is wall to wall furniture right now.
My current plan is to sell the old couch and recliner and just have the big couch. Maybe I'll get a small comfy chair to complete the room, but I'd like to go without for a while. If I wait for the community garage sale, we will be wall to wall furniture until April 21st.
Stephanie - Mar 25, 2012 5:34:39 pm PDT #28083 of 30001
Trust my rage
That's a lot of furniture! Can you guys still walk around? My kids would love that, though. Lots of forts to build.
SuziQ - Mar 25, 2012 5:48:02 pm PDT #28084 of 30001
Back tattoos of the mother is that you are absolutely right - Ame
Walking is overrated. Eh, we can walk around, but it is going to drive me nuts at some point. I'm also depressed to discover that my friend's landing, which is where she had the couch, is larger than my living room. I'm going to need to rethink side tables also. One thing at a time...today was getting the couch in here - I'll figure out the rest tomorrow or the day after...
Cashmere - Mar 25, 2012 6:03:28 pm PDT #28085 of 30001
Now tagless for your comfort.
Where the fuck did I come from? Blood is boiling.
I'm pretty proud of myself for swimming to the deep end of my own gene pool. Doesn't make it any easier to deal with the shallow end.
smonster - Mar 25, 2012 6:07:24 pm PDT #28086 of 30001
We won’t stop until everyone is gay.
Just now reading the L9 article Hil linked.
Because the motor coach is too large to negotiate the broken residential streets, it drives in a rectangle around the most devastated section of the Lower Ninth, sticking to the major thoroughfares. During a tour in October, it drove alongside the Industrial Canal, pausing so that the passengers could see the area where the levee breached. As it slowly passed through the Make It Right houses, a teenage boy ran to the curb, and the driver — whose own house is still gutted from Katrina — pulled over. The door opened and the boy stepped on. The bus filled with the kind of silence that follows a popped balloon. The boy held a carton of homemade pralines.
“Three for $10,” he said. “Buy one for a good cause.”
The 42 members of the tour group sat stiffly in their seats, staring forward in silence.
“Like to donate a dollar? Anyone?”
Nobody moved.
“Going once, going twice . . . Sold! To the guy in the black jacket!”
The man in the black jacket flinched violently.
“No? O.K., then. Going once, going twice . . . Sold! To this woman here in the front row!”
No one offered the boy any money. After another excruciatingly long pause, he stepped out onto the street. The motor coach scuttled back to the French Quarter.
Buy a fucking praline, whitey. Damn.
Betcha they're better than the ones at Southern Candymakers.
§ ita § - Mar 25, 2012 6:07:24 pm PDT #28087 of 30001
Well not canonically, no, but this is transformative fiction.
I have to admit, I've been going back to that race hate site and reading it intermittently during the day, and it's...well, it kinda makes me feel better, if that makes any sense.
They are so supremely idiotic, and also offended by everything, that I know my just existing drives them nuts. I had no idea I could accomplish so much by just waking up in the morning.
Now I consider myself a little bit more informed on a specific sort of stupidity out there, and I can close the windows and move on with my life.