Thanks, Beverly. My usual fear of falling on ice is so much worse this year because I'm not just worried about hurting myself.
'Never Leave Me'
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 just wish I could figure out whatever this lesson is so I can get the hell over it and move on.
I think the lesson is "move on."
There was a fatal accident on 285. They closed four lanes and let traffic crawl by in the emergency lane. I tried an alternate route, but so did everyone else. I left the transfusion place at about 4:45 and got home at 7.
She was Not Fond of my name choices, and kept suggesting shit like Sandee. (Two Es)
Esther's wrongness is epic!
Sharknado J. Smith, of Craptacular Falls. Sounds about right.
Heh. (Still chuffed to see Katie Bee and so many old friends here.)
Franny was of course Buffistina Monkeypants back during her utero days.
Yeah! And Ple was going to have a lemur according to the sonogram.
Cancer patients deserve chauffeured limos. Stocked with whatever makes said patient feel better.
Totally a lemur.
Esther's wrongness is epic!
If she'd had her way, my name would be Penny. Not Penelope, just Penny.
Also, if I'd been a boy, and she denies this now but she told me this for YEARS, I'd have been Angus George.
If she'd had her way, my name would be Penny. Not Penelope, just Penny.
She said your dad and sister were responsible for your name.
Yep. I mean, not that I give them any sort of thanks for it, because I really would rather have had a name that's... a name.
OMG, THOUGH! She keeps saying with derision, "People said we should have named you Esme!" as if Esme (my great-grandmother's name) is this horrible, awful, burden of a name, rather than ONE OF MY CHILD'S MIDDLE NAMES.
Note: I'd have been perfectly fine being named Esme.
I have to say I derive too much enjoyment at your constant state of face palming consternation at your mother's tactlessness. It's a dynamic worthy of some witty George Kaufman play.
Plei, I like your mum, but she is ... wacky. Frequently wrong in the head.
Of course, my dad had me convinced my middle name was Vegomatic. I didn't get proof it wasn't until I was 16.
Totally a lemur.
Tickybox Squeakaboo, Lemur Princess!