Awesome. D's left a message on my phone inquiring about a Christmas present he's sent to Ryan. No mention of anything that's transpired this year. Just what I want to deal with tonight.
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.
Yuck, bt. I wish you peace - and the strength and wisdom to make it for yourself.
::sets up a dark cave filled with soft bedding and good books, and orders a cabana boy to silently restock the mini-bar on a regular basis::
Just what the doctor ordered. Looks like I will have lots of nice company too. Snuggles with Buffistas is pretty much exactly what I think my doctor said I needed to get all better.
Dear beer: I love you so much, why do you make me feel so awful the day after I properly show my appreciation? Love, Hung over in New Orleans.
I *thought* Em was too young to remember Bourbon Street. Apparently, I was wrong. She asked a girl in her class if she could see her boobs today.
Wait, what? Did she offer beads in exchange? Maybe she saw a Girls Gone Wild video.
Sean, while your roommate moving out won't solve the financial problems, I'm glad at least you won't have the stressors. And, yes, it is more than reasonable to expect someone to pay what they owe for a place to live.
The only thing that saves me from the hangover is my commitment to hydration. My local joints know to bring me a big water with my glass of wine. I never want to have a hangover again. So unpleasant.
Dear ice cream with chunky things in it,
Right up there with those paper cups in Pepperidge Farm's cookie bags. "Well, let me tidy up and throw away this piece of paper... MOAR COOKIES"
Awesome. D's left a message on my phone inquiring about a Christmas present he's sent to Ryan. No mention of anything that's transpired this year. Just what I want to deal with tonight.
This sketch? Classic for a reason:
Right up there with those paper cups in Pepperidge Farm's cookie bags. "Well, let me tidy up and throw away this piece of paper... MOAR COOKIES"
RIGHT????
I *thought* Em was too young to remember Bourbon Street. Apparently, I was wrong. She asked a girl in her class if she could see her boobs today.
At least it was "boobs" instead of "tits"?
Looking for silver lining.
I *thought* Em was too young to remember Bourbon Street. Apparently, I was wrong. She asked a girl in her class if she could see her boobs today.
They grow up so fast....
We've been hit this week, too. You may remember that our flame-point cat, Arthur, went into kidney failure last spring. With medication and regular fluids, he'd stabilized -- his kidney values were still high, but not that high. He went in for bloodwork earlier this week, and it looks like things have gotten worse again. Fluids have gone from every other night to every night, and we may be talking about a kidney transplant soon.
Oh, dear, Fred. Kidney ~ma to Arthur. Flame on, kitty.