lonelyfridge

Angrily hitting caps-lock doesn’t tab through form fields any faster than gently hitting caps-lock.

…it does smell like the Exxon Valdez ran aground outside my window when they were attempting to put oil into my building.

Perhaps the oil man sneezed when he was trying to stick his hose in the socket, and sent it spraying everywhere?

It be talk like a pie-rat day! so shiver me timbers and pass the grog, I be lookin’ fer a wench (“Prepare to be boarded!” I’ll say).

Speaking of booty, who be wantin’ this horrible thing?

“I miss you! do you miss me?”
“sure….”
“no! wroooong answer”
“no…”
“no?”
“I mean, uh, yes”
“oh love, you’re playing bingo with my emotions!”
“…. bingo?”

–

Also, apparently, ‘punch drunk’ isn’t the term used to describe people who act drunk when drinking non-spiked punch, and instead comes from boxers who get the stupids from being smacked about a lot.

I hope I’m not the only one who thought this, though, as usual, I can blame Pamela, as the evening of the night I met her six years ago, she told me I was acting punch drunk, introducing me to the term.

CLEARLY IT’S HER FAULT.

Jasmine:
i’m bored
and should sleep

Jamie:
me too
you can crash on my couch if you want
you’ll have to move the guitars though

Jasmine:
heh
sounds tempting

Jamie:
it’s a marvelous couch
it’s an Autobot. It’s currently in ‘bed’ mode

Jasmine:
like in “transformers”
do you have any deceptecons?

Jamie:
I did. They were in ‘Banana’ mode, and then they turned into ‘smoothie’ mode, which proved to be their undoing.

—-

I’ve started uploading pictures since the last update, which was roughly 3.7 billion years ago.

Here are the naughty bits of some otherwise respectable plants (ask a subject to model for you, and you can shoot anything with them):