Anyone else think a little bit of St. Francis found it's way into Bonny?
Kaylee ,'Serenity'
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.
Oh Bonny. So sorry you're dealing with additional stress. Not at all what you need.
hugs all around
In somewhat related news:
So, Tom wasn't able to scoop last night (we generally scoop every night) and all of a sudden I hear Marley meowling upstairs. He keeps meowing loudly, so I go upstairs... and he's pooping on the bed!
I'm pretty sure he was reacting to the state of the box (and perhaps my absence?) I hope so, anyway.
damn your cats are very specific in their expressions of displeasure.
I went and had pear and chocolate gelato. It helped with the anxiety.
(For about ten minutes, but still...)
True story, le n.
Sean, I have long been a believer in gelato's restorative qualities.
damn. that gelato sounds GREAT.
Nora,
I like how the cat didn't pick a chair or the rug. Fuck your bed, people! I'm pooping in it.
The gelato place in my neighborhood was the one Italian food that was not a huge disappointment when I got back from Italy.
I mean, I get it, you can't just magically make tomatoes and basil taste like they were grown in volcanic Italian soil, or to make mozzarella taste like it was made from buffalo milk just yesterday (or however long it takes to make cheese), but at least making gelato is something that can be done well almost anywhere.