Attention: This here is the thread where we get nostalgic over late 80s early 90s music. I start with Pixie's Debaser.

No this is Patrick

This is what Florida feels while it's watching Backdoor Boysluts 4.

Gold Dragons, Silver Stags, Copper Stars, and pennies.

I had the flu last week and was abed for 3 days. I have an extremely high energy breed ( Australian Shepherd) and instead of going stir crazy he laid in bed next to me and didn't even want to go outside to per or eat. I had to bring his food into my bedroom.

Goldens are always so happy if there is a person standing nearby, let alone putting a hand on them, it seems.

Alaska dogs kick ass

My Patronus is a stag, and I belong in the 1950s, and my Firefly character is Zoë. Woohoo!

My barbie tied her dead husband Phoebus to the roof of a carriage while rushing to the hospital.

HA! One of my Barbies had another executed by desk lamp. (Pretty in Pink Barbie was tyrant who ruled with a fist of steel.) I ruined the lamp, melted Malibu Barbie's head, nearly caused a fire and probably made my mom think of checking my head for a "666".

Yeah, one time my Barbie gave birth to puppies and even nursed them. That is no longer my dream. [Dramatic music plays as Barbie looks sadly into the distance]

All my Barbie did was FUCK.

I tend to agree. My Barbie always played basketball or battled Skeletor, and now as a grownup I do neither.

The most I learned from my Barbies was that Skippers little tween boobs were super hard to file off so I could finally have the Ken doll that my mom always said no to. Also, her hair looked terrible chopped off.

I'm an actual, real mexican person and I totally put guac on my burritos when I feel like it. Sometimes I even put it on english muffins and have it for breakfast. It is the tits, you should live a little (forget your guacamole rules! Throw them away! Be free!) and try it.

No. It would make you a bad lesbian, but that's about it.

Against my better judgment of this woman's so called "mugshot", almost supernally captured here by some anonymous jailhouse photographer as if he/she were channeling Vermeer himself, I would initially surmise this enigmatic woman to be some sort of hauntingly beautiful motorist, flummoxed by a sort persistent…

The problem is, she only has the one look.

I think, more than anything, I've just had it with people in warmer climates bragging about how nice it is where they live. It might be funny or a joke at first, but after awhile, the mockery and bragging isn't really funny and you're downright pissing me off.

Anyone who ever said the weather in Seattle is intolerable can eat my shorts. I'll take steady drizzle over the endless cycle of weather catastrophes any day.