I met Sting.
Spike's Bitches 48: I Say, We Go Out There, and Kick a Little Demon Ass.
[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.
I met Sting.
Ooooh. How?
I did vacation planning today. Am I the only snarky, snarky bitch who somehow completely drinks the Disney Kool-Aid? Because I was told to "Have a magical day!" on the phone today, and I just said "Thank you!". What is wrong with me? Is this a snark blind spot?
Nah, I drank so much I have a Kool-Aid moustache.
I met Sting.
I love how she just casually tosses that out and then moves on with her day.
I'm sorry, Hil. Sounds miserable!
Rotten luck with the joints, Hil. Relief~ma to you.
I crawled into bed, Europe girl, it was 3:00 a.m.!
He wrote a musical called Last Ship and in a (sadly unsuccessful because the thing is damn wonderful) effort to keep it open, he's gone into the cast for a few weeks. He came to the stage door and signed autographs.
Usually stunt casting leaves me cold but, and this will sound a bit funny, he can really sing...
Wishing you pain relief, Hil.
Europe Girl. Meh. You wanna fight, don't you?
Oh, Hil, that sounds miserable. Vibing for pain relief, and that your joints start cooperating, and that your doctor figures out something more useful to do than just tell you it's bursitis.
Vortex, definitely!
Oh, Trudy, picture me with green Elphaba-like skin because I am so jealous that you met Sting. Is he just as beautiful up close? I mean, of course he is... But even more in person?
Oh Hil, I hope a solution is found soon.
Europe Girl. Meh. You wanna fight, don't you?
Callaluna and Trudy, jello pit. It's a plan.
I need more hours in the day. My normally read threads are about a thousand posts behind, but I don't want to skip. My efforts have been to keep caught up here at least.