After some thought, my friends and I declared that Wash was the best candidate for m-preg we'd ever seen. Because I can imagine Zoe pregnant easily enough (and omg Zoe hart) but I can imagine Wash pregnant just that much easier, and it really wouldn't get in the way of his general lifestyle. (Can you imagine him complaining about having swollen feet? I can. ^^; )
Mostly only funny if you're a Firefly fan but, hah! I am not an mpreg fan by any means but I want to see fic come of this. Anyone? XD
ETA: Serenity movie spoilers in comments. Sorry. ._.
cyanei shares his thoughts on "higher thinking"!
This evening I watched Mr & Mrs Smith, Four Brothers, and Stealth.
I am now incapable of higher thought. YAY PLOSIONS.
It would be really awesome to have a job where I could just plode things all day.
I have no preference for ex or im. All plosions are good.
Argument: Evil exists because God gave us Free Will.
The Mario Refutation: In Super Mario Brothers 3, there are several ways of completing the levels. You could go down a pipe. You could get the Fur Suit and fly over everything. You could bounce on the magic note block and run through the cloud bonus areas. You can choose between many different paths. Never do you do something which is morally evil.
Conclusion: God giving us Free Will and Evil not existing are not incompatible, because even Nintendo can do it.
I'd love to live in a chocolate city...
- The meter maids would write Golden Tickets!
- The gum would taste like a five-course meal at Commander's!
- Annoying tourists would be flushed down the chocolate Mississippi River and shelled to death by the squirrels in Audubon Park!
- Every time Tom Benson opens his mouth, we could shove it full of Everlasting Gobstoppers!
- And when Ray Nagin announces his next candidacy for mayor, all the citizens could gather in Jackson Square and sing "Pure Imagination."
Original post here, quoted in full, but lots of funny in the comments. QWP.
"If you want to do romance, fine. If you want to do dark, fine. Stick with one or the other though, please, for the love of God. Make toast or play with the dog,pick one--if you do both, the toast gets burned and the dog has butter on it."
If you really need it, here is the context.
I was able to check the fridge in the conference room . . . , and the toilet paper that we put in months ago is rotting. It is also in the company of a six-pack of beer. Right. I had no clue toilet paper in a fridge will rot. I guess it should (being biodegradable and all), but it's never occurred to me that bacteria and fungi and all those other little organisms will sprout on it and use the soft fibers that are meant to wipe someone's butt as food.
QWP, unlocked, though context is unrelated. :)
To which thesparque responds:
"Yes, that's why his marriage to that John Rolfe fellow caused such a big to-do."
I'd never actively discourage anyone from taking a course with him. It's just that I've taken a course with him before, and the man was as boring as ... hmm, what's something people would universally find boring? Sex with someone who never moves a muscle or makes a sound? I guess that works, so long as none of you are secretly necrophiliacs. But I digress.
QWP, public post. Hey, I giggled.
( Collapse )
About the subject of Breast feeding in public, she had this to say..
Anti-breastfeeding people invariably use the phrase 'whip out a breast'. Invariably. Always. That's the phrase.
I don't know if this is one of the many weerie things that pregnancy does to the female body, or perhaps I just have weird breasts, but it's just not possible for me to do anything with either of my breasts which could be construed as 'whipping it out'.
Seriously, I tried. It hurt. They don't whip. I apparently have the Incredible Unwhippable Wazoongas.
Am I missing something here? I feel that I'm lacking an important skill.
No worries. It's so damn easy. You just walk into the shop, smile, open your trenchcoat, thrust the Amniotic Fluid Bomb out in front of you, and they run, screaming gibberish about doomed collector's items and blood on the walls. Shop all to yourself. I'm invincible, I am womaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-aaa-aaaah-aaaaahn. -- camilla
Frankly, the last line just slays me dead.
so, I'm out 500 bucks, I can no longer live in Edward Rose properties, and my cat has declared himself to be an illegal immigrant from Mexico.Yeah, interesting weekend.
Comments went something like this:
olde_skool: Hoochie, El Bandito de Gato. Sounds like a movie deal to me. :D
I forgot to mention the illegal coke ring that he's running out of my apartment while I'm working.
olde_skool: I smell a blockbuster.
adye623: It will be awesome; a clever cat, handsome if I do say so from my biased viewpoint, running an illegal drug ring out of his mother's apartment; she gets caught and drains her bank account to keep herself afloat while he has a million dollars stashed in the kitchen cupboard that she never uses. She is kidnapped by his archenemy, the french poodle next door, and he pays her ransom and saves her with chinese meow torture. He then checks himself into rehab and turns away from his drug dealing ways and spends his nights cuddling with his mother and batting at her crochet.
ETA: ~Also, QWP. I forgot, thanks lotusbiosm.
~Hoochie is the cat's name.
"Are you over 21?"
"Over 21? I'm a Balrog, for Melkor's sake! I was created at the beginning of time with the Valar, and was given power over fire and darkness by Morgoth Bauglir during the First Age! I think that makes me a bit over 21!"
"Do you have ID?"
"ID? Come on Gandalf, you know me."
"Sorry, but without ID you shall not pass."