Now, picture me wandering through a smoke-filled casino today (which I was), dodging old folks with walkers and oxygen tanks, while holding a bucket of coins and a voucher and downing a Sauza-Rita at the same time.
Now that’s coordination.
But I feel sick from all the smoke. I’m stripping down for a massive nicotine decon right now!!
That must not have been fun, viva, sorry you had to endure it. The smoke-filled wandering, I mean. I won’t address the whole decon thing…
AAARGGGHH! GRRRRR!! AAARRRGGGHH!!! Oh, sorry. Work-related raving, there. My job deserves a spanking, to be administered using a paddle studded with rusty nails and shards of glass. And then, the said job should be bathed in lemon juice, so it can feel the pain to which it subjects me on a daily basis.
Mama Plant once complained that one of her romance books had “Too much oral sex in it”. I did not ask her to explain, but I feel no such compunction with your august self.
Ahem.
How many go-go dancing girls constitute too many?
Thanks for the virtual rubdown, by the way. I’m gleaming clean and feeling well enough to run off to the English perfessers’ partay in a minute for chow and martinis. It will help to take my mind off of something that I may start a Pit thread about when I get home.
eruditity: one of those words that sounds naughty, like titular.
I don’t know if I’m up for it tonight…maybe tomorrow.
We’ll see.
Kn*ckers: thank you for your concern. I finally got all the smoke out of my system after a loooooong night’s sleep–had to go to bed at eight frikkin-thirty.
It’s only been three months? I thought I’d been around these threads a bit longer than that. Feels like forever.
I still remember feeling completely out of it trying to read these threads though. “Porthos? Panda? Huh? What’re these guys talking about? I wish they’d just talk about the friggin’ episode already.”