I’m a TA, and my instructor canceled this morning because she’s got the flu. Allow me to demonstrate the confetti party I threw for myself when I realized I didn’t have to get up at 6:15 am today:
That’s a way to build employee loyalty, there.
Oh, no, but something about it is making her look washed out and tired.
About Willow’s dress: a) Bugs. b) Not a print, but very carefully applied sequins and beads. c) Not enough breast to pull it off—it looks like it needs to be hiked up...like, a lot.
Oh god that dude (not the same one, but definitely the same type) lives below me. He wants to be friends with *EVERYONE* in the apartment building. I finally had to yell at him because he would not. stop. fucking. talking to me as we both came home from the metro. Boundaries, man. Boundaries.
I am laughing way too hard at this. Way too hard.
The flip side to that, however, is the cry of “why wasn’t this being covered in the media?!” So, truly, which do you want?
That gave my brain a cramp.
I’m pretty sure it was the ‘out of the blue’-ness of it all, like she thought they were fine and he just flat up cheated/dumped. Not that it doesn’t happen all the time, it totally does, but that’s a bit...cavalier when your partner is also pregnant and has to live through it all in the spotlight.
I just refuse, while shaking my head and quietly muttering ‘you all are going to get hep...’
...It happened in America, too, for quite some time.
That’s really all anyone is asking. *grin*
My eyes practically rolled right out of my head when I read that they have a word for masculine power, but not a word for vagina. What. The. Fuck.
Please. Please. It’s “below the ankle.” /sarcasm
I liked her before; I read that, and ran to follow her on twitter, because DAMN.
Jeeves and Wooster: “If you’ll pardon me mentioning it, ladies, the house is on fire!”