Our daughter is having a party. You are required to walk maybe fifty feet. You are not so disabled to do that. Get off your dead ass, FFS.
You know Gwen, too?
Whachu talkin bout Willis.
I assume someone like Gwen, a hypochondriac who managed to convince herself she absolutely needs a wheelchair after one too many hospital visits. She’s perfectly capable of walking and using stairs unaided but prefers to be doted on by her boyfriend.
I vaguely recall having read a book about an old-timey English boarding school where one of the main characters is a hypochondriac named Gwendolyn. Are we perchance thinking of the same thing? And if we are, what was the name of the goddamned book?
The Gwen to whom I refer is a real person whose mental status took one hell of a decline after her husband died.
This is like that other Pit thread. You know, the one where that long-time user called a person an angry name, and everyone got to fill in their own interpretation of what he was actually angry with. You know the one I mean?
Oh, wait, that was another board. Never mind.
Without knowing all (ok, most of the) details, I think it’s fair to ask: 50 feet of what? You know, like “50 feet of a walk on hot coals”?
I just assumed he was talking about you.
Is this about my ex?
The crazy lazy added count that threw a God Damon fit if I parked 20 feet farther than the absolute closest spot possible Buttttt could spend two tucking hours walking around the store greeting over which olives where the best?
This tucking kindle auto duck up sucks
No. It was here. But it wasn’t the one poster, it was the other and they didn’t call someone a name, they did that other thing.
You remember, right?
I’m pretty sure this pitting is about an under-performing exotic dancer that buddy hired for his daughter’s party.
You’re thinking about that time the drunk step-mother tried karaoke and sang that one song. No, not that song, the other one.
No, it’s about mine Goodwife who stopped doing that before I met her.
Current or ex?
Well if my wife used to pole dance but no longer did I would be listed too
Since this thread is already well and truly derailed (not that it was ever on rails in the first place), I’d just like to add that the book which escaped my mind at the time was Malory Towers, by the venerable Enid Blyton.
For an 8-year-old boy I had some truly odd tastes in literature. Almost as odd as this thread.
Current, though we’ve been estranged in the same house for decades.
Are you referring to Johnny Damon? He was a pretty good center fielder but hardly warrants being called “God”.
C’mon, stop teasing us Droppy…what’s going on??