{{{smonster}}}
Spike ,'Same Time, Same Place'
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.
Lots of brackets for all who love K, smonster.
smonster, that's a huge loss. Be kind to yourself. I've been thinking about you, Heather, Nora, and Tom today.
Productivity-wise, the last load of laundry is in the washer, load #2 is in the dryer, and load #1 is folded and put away (or drying on the clothesline); I put a crapton of pictures online for Tim's dad; I emailed my client; I made the bed; and I washed the dishes. Still need to thaw some salmon for dinner, clean the bathroom, call the campground, take the trash out to the curb, and walk up to the library. I think I'll pull the salmon out and then walk up to the library.
Much love, smonster. Today marks seven years since ND’s father died, also. It’s a rough day for losing good people.
Many hugs to smonster and the Design family. Anniversaries of this kind suck.
I am down to four e-mails in my action folder at work. I feel quite accomplished. If only I didn't have 11 in my waiting for others folder.
Mom-care~ma, Epic.
{{{smonster}}}
Oh, yes, much Mom~ma, Epic!
Mom ~ma, Epic. Wishing you all the best.
I may need an alibi. Compression socks arrive wrong size.
Oh, sj, NO. How maddening.