I present my Girl Story of the Day.
Still have headache. But had a nice time.
Yay! Looks like your whole life is a Girl Story of the Day recently.
'Why We Fight'
[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 present my Girl Story of the Day.
Still have headache. But had a nice time.
Yay! Looks like your whole life is a Girl Story of the Day recently.
Yay! Looks like your whole life is a Girl Story of the Day recently.Ya, and never a chance to snog. But hey, continued interactions is progress. Good things come to those who wait, right? Plus, I'm meeting some cool people, so hopefully my introverted shell will crack a little more.
orange sections soaked in Kahlua.
I've used this dish as my go-to potluck option for about 10 years. People love it...think you are Julia Child...and it takes almost zero effort. Highly recommended.
omnis, your GGG stories are more fun than TV right now. When is GGG s1 ep4?
Cat-sitting is trickier than I thought it would be, given that my only pet experience is hamsters (although my current hamster is four years old, so I can't be bad). I have no grip at the moment, so there's almost more cat food on the floor than in the bowls. And I think I'm giving them too much food. They're also not being very friendly yet. I'm hoping that tonight's feeding will be enough meals to persuade them I'm OK, and lead to some sitting on my lap.
There must be work today, or my supervisor will be less than impressed on Wednesday at my two weeks of utter and total bloody laziness.
omnis, your GGG stories are more fun than TV right now. When is GGG s1 ep4?Glad to be entertaining. Let's hope it follows USA TV model & not UK. i.e. Not predetermined finite show count, but open ended, and each episode ends happily.
I don't know if Aims has mentioned it here, but The Stupidest Dog in the World has a slipped disc in his back and as a result is on prednisone and forced bedrest.
How do you force a beagle to bedrest? You lock him in the spare bedroom with the mattress on the floor and as many comforts (e.g. blankets, pillows, food and water) as you can give him.
This worked for about two and a half minutes.
Well, actually, he's been pretty good. But this morning...well, if you will raise your eyes slightly and note the posting time, you may see where I'm headed.
He was barking and...not exactly howling, but kind of moaning ...so I get up to see what's up. He's had an accident (which, you know...happens. I'm not mad, I don't yell, though I did grumble a bit under my breath). I clean it up, let him out and now I'm awake. So, coffee is brewing, and I'm in the spare bedroom with pathetically grateful Ollie who is, I think, suffering the SPACE! MADNESS! without the actual "outer space".
I feel bad for him. He's a social mutt, though lacking in the graces, and it's hard for him to not be immediately available to any social interaction. So I will hang with him a bit this morning and let him know he is well loved.
Despite the fact that it is 5:40 in the fucking morning!
This is my devotion to my pets.
What a surprise. Nobody has responded to my post in half an hour or so. Is it because they hate me? Am I boring?
NO. (Don't anybody start, I'll gut yas). It's because it's 10 after 6 in the morning!
And, I'll tell ya, The World's Most Unintelligent Canine is, unsurprisingly, a really shitty conversationalist.
So. Here I am.
Posting to myself.
Which is...unusual.
I should probably go back to reading the Internet. You know. Instead of...posting. To myself.
Oh my God.
I have...the SPACE! MADNESS!!!
...
I need more coffee.
I'm here! (I'm British. It's 11.10am here. That will be the reason I'm not in bed. Not that I wouldn't prefer to be in bed, you understand. But I'm supposed to be writing what is fast becoming The Dissertation From Hell. Must ring people today and persuade them they want to participate in my study, for absolutely no reward, at a time of year when they are very busy. That's going well so far.)
Um. Yes. I'm here.
...oh, ice cream bar...you have the same interests I do. Boiled football leather! Dog breath!
Wh-what's that? Who's there?
Oh! Hi. Um. Hey. Nice to make your, uh, your acquaintance. Excellent.
Please, have a seat. Don't mind the green stuff it's only Jell-O.
I'll, uh, go put on some pants, shall I? Back in a sec.
Want some coffee?
Happy SPACE!!!MADNESS!!!!! to you and Ollie, MM. May you both recover quickly, and that slipped disc behave itself better in the future.
It is not yet six o'clock here, and the cats are acting like they are starving to death. Because they have never been fed.
Judging by my Harvey's reaction to dropped potato chips, cats have no problems eating off the floor. Shoot, I've seen Sammie take food out of her dish, and drop it onto the floor before eating it. So, you are doing ok, Seska. If the people you are in loco cat-owner-is for did not give you a measuring scoop and say, this much, this time of day, your guess is as good as any one else's.