Yyyyep. It’s just a normal part of life. There’s no mystery to how it got there.
Yyyyep. It’s just a normal part of life. There’s no mystery to how it got there.
Okay, I’m a huge seafood fan, especially of crabs and oysters, but in this case:
Always blew my mind to watch those DePaul dudes running around in like 20º weather in just their stripey Oxford shirts, and mini skirts on the girls. No thanks. I wore my Sorels and long johns to the bar.
Yah, I would only want bare skin for pole. Silks, trapeze, and lyra, you want to cover your skin to prevent rope burn. I tore the shit out of my armpits and back the other week doing slack drops on the silks in a backless leotard. And I always wear socks for trapeze and lyra.
Seriously, nobody needs to get their pants all tangled up in the silks or get trapped on the trapeze with their baggy clothes wrapped around the bar. Modesty is a safety hazard.
Oh my God, there was a hamster in the purse, wasn’t there.
Original London Cast of Les Mis or GTFO. I will cut you!
He had some cute, Kellyesque mannerisms, too.
Wait, no mention of Frankenjesus? My partner was still upset about it this morning.
Same here (except our Sheltie was kind of a jerk).
We had UNICEF boxes at one of my Unitarian churches. I want to say we collected change in it during Advent rather than Lent, but my memory of the exercise is as blurry as the tenets of Unitarianism. Hey-oooo!
Yah, when I was in junior high, my friends smuggled Dean Koontz novels onto campus and entertained/shocked us with the creepy sex scenes.
We have much to discuss. ;)
Haha yah, I guess it’s like adopting cats. Gotta have two so they distract each other and you can get your stuff done.
Wow, I never thought I’d come out on Team Goose about anything, yet here we are...
My parents told me they had me so my older sister wouldn’t get bored, so...
Eh, as a drinker of the occasional French 75, I’m cool with this.
Was kinda hoping the answer would be something weirder, tbh.
What do you call them, then? Grinders?
I think it’s solely a Midwestern thing. My extremely white, Midwestern dad used to call them “burgs.” They go on the grill next to the “brats.”