*verklempt*

[trinityofone]

Oh my God! Not ten minutes after I made that last post, flowers arrived for me! Talk about timing! At first I thought it was from a publisist—the other Associate Editor, who does parties, is always getting gift baskets from club promoters—but it was from John and Rodney! Well, that's what the card said, anyway. ;-)

Whoever you are, thank you so, SO much. I am so touched— I love all of you and I'm so glad I have this place to bitch and squee and mourn and rejoice in. Thank you.

*huge, enveloping hugs*

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

We've been over this. I can't help what my mother read when she was pregnant can I?

[(Anonymous)]

No, but you can help yourself from emulating one of the most homoerotic novels in the English language, thank you so very much.

Seriously, how have they not discharged you yet?

[(Anonymous)]

Emulating homoeroticism?

I think I've done a hell of a lot more than emulate it.

[(Anonymous)]

Yes, I do seem to remember that from last night. Both times. You are surprisingly flexible for a forty-year-old, I'll give you that.

[(Anonymous)]

It's the sticks. They're not just for having the crap beaten out of you, you know.

[(Anonymous)]

Okay, now I am experiencing a mental image which is both disturbing and hot.

[(Anonymous)]

Wanna share?

[(Anonymous)]

I would, but I don't think it's terribly hygienic to do something like that with a foot long piece of wood.

[(Anonymous)]

Rodney - far be it from me to turn my back on a lifetime of never actually asking for something straight out -

- but would you come the fuck home?