mens et manus
After looking at sex toys and a hot-positions catalogue in Anne Summers yesterday, Huéy took me on a hunt to find some new loafers since I am slightly impaired in the shoe department -- I live almost exclusively in Cat Boots or trainers, though I've walked all over Cambridge barefoot on more than one occasion now and found it very freeing -- we narrowed it down to one pair of shoes in each of four different shops, and whittled those down to an eventual success in Ravel; I am pleased. It was a welcome escape from the lab, much needed too since I ended up sticking it out there past 21:45 last night, and was a chance to spend a little extra time with the lovely lady before she left for the US this morning.
Passing a moody person in a wheel chair, brought home a hypothetical question. If someone in a wheel chair approaches you and gets a bit pugnacious, do you treat them like anyone else, or offer just a little more temperance given their situation? And if they start trying to hit you, is it fair game to release their handbrake, whip them around and shove them down a steep hill?
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I don't remember Jim Henderson's creations being able to get away with such a tight shirt! ;-)
What happy and healthy young people you two are! Keep up the good work!
Barefoot around town, eh? I take it that Cambridge isn't covered in discarded junkies' needles, then - unlike this part of Copenhagen!
[David] Henson.
[Stairs] David's right, that shirt is, um. That is. Well. Let's just say, you're no Miss Piggy.
re: wheelchair people... let them have it. They already get the best parking.
Checking out sex toys and buying shoes?!?! You must be gay. LOL
If possible I would encourage tearing out the hand break and using it to beat them prior to pushing them off the steep hill. But that's just me. I am like that.
If they honestly cared that much about their own situation, they would not be so pugnacious... just 'cause they is a cripple don't mean they got the right to treat you like rejected trailer trash... it ain't Alabama (or Crawford, Texas ;) ... although that numbskull world leader there in Crawford deserved them camuffins :P)! If they cast the first stone, you have a right to start hurlin' 'em back... just make sure you hit 'em upside their crazy head in addition to hitting the hand brake ;)
you two make such a cute couple. you should both wear Cats Boots at the wedding.
Oh, my. I'm going to have to break up with my boyfriend now and fly to England to claim you.
Hmm, the happy and healthy is largely weather dependent; come back in the deepest winter, and I'm sure we won't be smiling.
Oh, who am I kidding?! Wheeee! P.S. ta, and so far no needles!
Matt, I will be if I continue to eat as I do beyond my late twenties. I expect the pitch of my voice will change too, but that's something to look forward to.
Everlasting love hereby extended to Ryan, Ed and Georgia for answering the question, though I think best to steer clear of Georgia when he's in a bad mood.
Zachariah, we do make a nice couple, but her boyfriend and I would make a better couple; I'm not about to visit the Undiscovered Country (Shakespeare?! No! Star Trek!), let alone with a dear friend, and he's a nice mid-Western boy raised in the cornfields too, which is wholesome and conducive to prurient lines of thought.
Herr Doktor. Herr. Doktor. Since it is plain that you are entirely serious, I must express my reservations. Though you look exceedingly good in cheerleader outfits, and you are of no mean intellectual capacity, the flippancy with which you are willing to take leave of your current situation gives me the fidgets; what else could I expect but to be left high and dry when a more desirable muppet moonwalks past? This is a most unfortunate possibility.
Your ticket is in the post.
Moonwalks? This I have to see.
Steep hill all the way.
And by the way, do we get a sight of the loafers?
No, you cannot play unfair.
You can call them emotionally crushing things instead. Since he does have a tongue and can reply.
Why do I get a feeling that I am going to hell?
Three nights ago I finally learned the definitive answer to your question when I watched the deliciously awful movie Swimfan.
The definitive answer is: you should take them to a swimming pool and threaten to throw them in unless Jesse Bradford admits he loves you.
Note: do not, under any circumstances, follow through on your threat if you cannot swim. You will, like poor Erika Christensen, drown, leaving Jesse in the hands of stupid, banal Shiri Appleby.