February 19th, 2008


ungracious begrudgingly serves "baked goods"

At The Bakery, we pride ourselves on sucking the cock of every customer, and doing it for free if they thought it was a bit toothy.

Her car is easily recognizable, a massive black SUV with equally black windows and 24" rims. She steps out of the car, all ghetto-flossin'. Hair an intricate and stiff sculpture that she can't possibly sleep in or wash, heels so high I marvel at her balance, and a skirt that left me with intimate knowledge of her Brazilian. Knowledge I DID NOT WANT. Eurgh.

Context Secretly Loves difficult customers.


(no subject)

asherah has an encounter with a religious nut proclaiming that The End Is Near.

And I started thinking, "dammit. one day, these wackos might be right." I mean, if something comes crashing into the earth and destroys it or mother nature decides to kick our asses, I am willing to bet that there will be some of those religious nuts saying, "I TOLD YOU SO!" And I will spend my last moment punching them in the face.

Context prefers her opinion that the end is not, in fact, near. Flocked. QWP.
  • Current Mood
    amused amused

(no subject)

hardvice makes a list of people who will be first against the wall when the revolution comes:

People who say "well, that's your opinion"

I'm pretty sure this one has appeared in this list before, but it bears repeating because it's just so awful.

Of course it's my opinion. That's why it's coming out of my mouth. Am I supposed to be offering other people's opinions? "I don't buy it, but Denise Richards thinks that..." What people really mean, of course, is "that's just your opinion, and is no more valuable than anyone else's" which is, clearly, horseshit. Some opinions are better than others. Some are informed, well-reasoned, logically consistent, and properly presented, and then there's yours. Y'know, the ones based on what Jimmy Joe told you under the bleachers in sixth grade, or what you read in the Bible, or what you just pulled, fully formed like Athena, out of your asshole.
CSI - you and me

carrieellen thinks outside the box.

The new apartmentmate is a math major. And she's taking abstract algebra. I imagine x+y=c displayed in a watch that is slowly sliding down a table, into a pool of impressionist right angles, surrounded by a border of quadratic equations. In the shape of a flower that can also be confused for a vagina.

Context shall paint only using primary colors. (F-locked and QWP, naturally.)
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    giggly giggly

thedilettante, on soccer fen households:

Consider this, from 4 am a few days ago:

applegnat: Did you see. Real Madrid lost.
thedilettante: Ooh. Who to?
applegnat: Real Betis.
thedilettante: Who are an adorable team.
applegnat: I know. Great kits.
thedilettante: You can see their nipples.
applegnat: ...
thedilettante: ...
applegnat: ...
thedilettante: ... biscuit?

Earlier tonight I was trying to explain to Aadisht that being a Liverpool fan (my patriarchal oppressor father made me one when I was too young to have a choice!) had developed in me a sort of humour-in-adversity, the alternative being black despair. As a result of this, I often find my team
winning hilarious. Which is probably why my reaction to tonight's win was to walk into Sups' room at 3 and announce "Oh Liverpool. You can't beat fucking Barnsley".

Context was rooting for Havant & Waterlooville.
caption!cats men

The perils of public transport

softplaces gets given some money ($2) by a creepy guy on the bus...

OH DEAR GOD. So yes, I guess I look about twelve and like I can be bribed for sexual favours with small change. Which could be a fair judgement given my appearance, but the lap-top and law of torts textbook in arm negates it somewhat. Perhaps he’s a very specific sort of paedophile – into child prodigy sorts with a short attention span (“ooh, coin, shiny!”) or just a particularly cheap breed of genius.

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    giggly giggly