Wait, so who's whose? Unf keeps calling me a little bitch, and I have too much self-respect for that.
I got the impression that your work is about a six or seven hour drive from L.A., too. That's a lot of time to invest for a movie.
I'm in Chicago(land), and so, right now, is Daughter.
And we're just going to pass you around; as long as you're comfortable with that, of course.
You know, ogged, you're getting old. You're going to have to marry someone. Don't be so damn picky.
B, thanks for the mini-lecture, there. Ogged doesn't need to hear from me (again) about how picky he is.
It's sounding more and more like tonight's dinner date will be ideal for all involved. Clever wit as an amuse-bouche, ego stroking for the main course - and for dessert? Warm fudge, with creme anglaise.
(oooh. dirtier than I thought. I'm on a roll, O.G.)
Hey, bitch... what're you up to tonight? Two of the Unfogged podium girls will be in the same city, you know.
Namely, you and me.
Warm fudge, with creme anglaise
Eeeeuw.
You're still holding out for the grad student, aren't you?
Or is it that you're secretly holding out for me, my cooking, and my ironing pile? ;)
pg, given your cooking, your pile of laundry is but a feathery wisp in the wind. Come over anytime (byo pots).
In fact, the plan is to wait until I'm a well-established forty-year-old (blogger), then go back to Iran to pluck myself a ripe nineteen-year-old whose parents will convince her (more or less), that she's getting a great deal. Leveraging culture.
What the latest on your ticker?
(And I don't know how 27 knows where the ultra-secretive bphd is, but hell yeah, let's get the ladies together. At the very least, you can swap stories, and the one with the most outrageous story has to post it on her blog.)
b, sometimes I wonder if you have my best interest at heart.
Hey, bitch... what're you up to tonight?
In a slightly different setting, that would be the least effective pickup line ever.
From me, Apos... there is no "least effective" pickup line.
Crap... sorry about that OG. I thought maybe B and I had something in common, finally. And I meant Kenosha, by the way.
Who's OG? Kenosha? That's nearby! If you promise that you're a hottie (and can handle two guys with mad typing skills), maybe w-lfs-n and I will make a drunken post-dinner trip to the north.
In fact there's a straightforward adaptation of this proof that shows that all pickup lines are equally effective.
Speaking of being drunken, the restaurant is pretty close to here.
That sounds like a good place. Too bad I'm driving.
Ogged, The dangers of driving drunk have been dramatically overexaggerated by the career MADD activists whose economic livelihood depends on perpetuating the so-called "problem" of "operating heavy machinery at high speeds while intoxicated."
Can we safely say that this is the first Unfogged comment thread in which Ogged has solicited a commenter to join him and Ben w-lfs-n in a threesome?
Ok, I'm convinced. Drunk driving it is!
Can we safely say that this is the first Unfogged comment thread in which Ogged has solicited a commenter to join him and Ben w-lfs-n in a threesome?
You know, you would think so, but would anyone be surprised if it weren't?
Now wait a minute. If my economic livelihood depended on people operating heavy machinery at high speeds while intoxicated, I would do my best to *minimize* the perceived dangers of drinking and driving.
Sadly, I am at home. Not going out, because there is NOTHING TO DO IN THIS FUCKING TOWN. So I am sex-chatting with another blogger. Because, yes, "bitch, what are you doing tonight" works on me as a pickup line, and I am a sucker for mad typing skills. Not so sure about the fudge/creme anglaise combo, though.
But hey, girl27, if you know where I live and you're really 'round these parts, drop me an email...
Oh, and Ogged, I don't have your best interests at heart. I have giving you a hard time at heart. Surely you've realized that by now.
Well, now. I go out to dinner and miss an almost-3some. What a shame.
No news yet on my ticker, but the tech wasn't sufficiently horrified by the echocardiogram to hold me there at the hospital today. I imagine I'll hear results later in the week.
Why don't you have pots? And don't you know that 19-year-olds are highly overrated?
the plan is to wait until I'm a well-established forty-year-old (blogger), then go back to Iran to pluck myself a ripe nineteen-year-old whose parents will convince her (more or less), that she's getting a great deal.
You're assuming they don't know what a blogger is?
I go out to dinner and miss an almost-3some.
I'm sure if it happened, they'd live-blog it. Publicity whores.
Unf, Ogged & Adam are gentlemen and scholars all. No threesomes or n-somes of any sort were perpetrated, but there was such wit and refined conversation as to make you think that Hopleaf served not beer, but rather the very mead of poetry itself.
I don't have your best interests at heart. I have giving you a hard time at heart.
I probably won't see this subtle distinction until after years of therapy.
Why don't you have pots? And don't you know that 19-year-olds are highly overrated?
I have pots, but even I'm not very happy with them--my mom offered to buy me a Le Creuset for Christmas, but I can't let her spend the money...I'll let you know if I get one...
As for 19-year-olds, yes, I'm aware. In fact, a serious offer's been made for me to marry my mom's best friend's now 21-year-old daughter (who is, in fact, gorgeous, and whom I've met, and found charming), but I, say it with me now, turned it down.
they'd live-blog it. Publicity whores.
I wanted to blog from the bar tonight, but Unf, keeper of the Blackberry, in typical fashion, thought it'd be too much of a pain.
...
Man, you people get around.
Insert 'glitterati' here.
ash
['Them tweedy guys with the socks, they're humpin' away like jackrabbits man...']
ash! :)
ogged, I'll explain the distinction to you over an expensive dinner sometime, 'mkay? You're buying.