Chickens are pathologically honest.
'Serenity'
Spike's Bitches 44: It's about the rules having changed.
[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.
Joe lies when he cries.
My heart appears to have gone out of rhythm. I hate it when it does that.
The cake is a lay.
Chickens are pathologically honest.
Liar, only laying chickens never lie.
the lie/lay distinction
Ah. The classics.
Remember the BtVS ep where Giles is asking Cordy to lay down? ... t'was lost in translation, here.
Also, most people who watched the first round when BtVS aired here thinks the Master's name is Rose. Because of "the master rose" sentence.
I had a long day. I don't think I'll be ever able to ask things right at uni. People just don't get me.
My heart appears to have gone out of rhythm. I hate it when it does that.
Oh, ick, Gud. Really?
Mildly relatedly, I'm correcting patient notes dictated by clarity-challenged residents and fellows, one of whom just stated that a particular woman's "clinical history, symptoms, and EKG demonstrate no underlying rhythm." Really? None at all? Are you sure she isn't a zombie?
Gud, have you recently had a lot of caffeine?
EKG demonstrate no underlying rhythm.
EKGs can tell if you can't dance?
Oh, ick, Gud. Really?
I've got atrial fibrillation. It happens from time to time.
Everybody lies.
Everybody hurts.
Sometimes.