People. Y’all wanna know WHY there’s no “dislike” button?
Because it’s one thing to condone lazy approval.
It is another thing ENTIRELY to condone lazy, passive aggressive, oh and BTW I did your mom and you can’t prove otherwise disapproval.
No, seriously.
If you want to rebut/refute/debate/disparage/dismiss/demonize/excoriate someone else’s post, you should have to TYPE ACTUAL WORDS.
Yes. WORDS.
Otherwise it’s too easy.
You killed Billy Joe’s parents!
Heh.
Awesome.
(Don’t get all wound up. It’s FICTION. Jeez.)
1. If and when I get around to cutting my hair, it’ll only be a trim, OK? “Tremendous tresses” is some lovely alliteration, but you’re still a fetishist.
2. The glimpse of my ass you’re looking for can be found in my archives. If that’s not enough for you? Go hit a museum or something. I’m filed under pre-Raphaelite.
I have swine flu. I slept all week. I’m just catching up.
A psychiatrist?
1. I’m finally looking at your GPOYW’s and you people are hot. Serious biohazard. Does Guiliani know about this?
2. There might be one more instance of babyspam and then I’m checking out for the evening.
3. That photo I just posted was totally creepy, unless you get the context. Then it’s ART. Art with nipples. Art with Lennon spawn and nipples. And so it goes.
4. Now that I’ve had time to process it? I’m actually kind of turned on by this whole anonymous hate mail thingamijabber. So. Go for it if you want.
5. It is so fucking cold right now. Seriously? Am I fucking Eskimo? No. Yet. Here I sit. Numb fingertips and all. It’s only November. Early November. Come mid-January I’m going to be knee-deep in snowdrifts cussing left and right about chillblains. And I don’t even know what a chillbiain IS.
Brr.
