The OFFICIAL Unofficial Achewood Message Board
Trivial Pursuits => People & Places => Topic started by: AugustWest on January 19, 2006, 05:36:08 am
-
Or should I say Mrs. Robinson...
-
Or should I say Mrs. Robinson...
Is she trying to Seduce you Augie? You know she's a big Simon and Garfunkel fan don't you August?
Happy Birthday Dear Wombat, may your tiny cans of Dr Pepper runneth over on the occasion of your birth.
~Paul
-
Is she trying to Seduce you Augie?
Wishful thinking, I suppose.
PLASTICS!
-
Yes, happy birthday. May you live long enough so as to have as many candles on your cake as you have tiny cans of Dr Pepper.
-
Happy Birthday Wommie. May your Tiny Cans of Dr Pepper be set up to spell Happy Birthday.
-
Happy birthday, wombat! May your day be filled with small mammals.
-
Happy Birthday Wombat!
I predict that somewhere a cloud will smile upon you and 10,000 monkeys will...
shit, I can't say sick fuckitude things about you. You're too damn nice. Happy birthday anyway!
-
Or should I say Mrs. Robinson...
Hey! Although I am the, er, um, most senior female member of this board, I must point out that as a relic of my teaching days, I have a strict hands-off policy regarding the 20 year olds.
However of course August doesn't fall into that category... or maybe that's the wishful thinking?
Thank you for all being up in the middle of the night wishing me a happy birthday!
-
Wait a minute, I think I'm disappointed that I don't inspire any sick fuckery.
-
If it makes you feel better you can go back and re-read my post about your tiny cans. That might help. I. am. just. trying. to. be. useful. on. your. birthday.
-
Happy birthday! Make sure to take time today to hang out with small fuzzy creatures, and anything else you might enjoy. For now, I think you shall enjoy...another tiny can of Dr Pepper.
It's the best I can do over the intarwebs. Happy birthday!
-
Etheopian food all around!
-
I predict that somewhere 10,000 monkeys will...
shit
I'd say that it's highly likely.
-
Wait a minute, I think I'm disappointed that I don't inspire any sick fuckery.
Happy Birthday, you giraffe taco crotched hussy.
I kid! See, you're the lady of this board, wombat.
She's Always A Woman:
She can kill with a smile
She can wound with her eyes
She can ruin your faith with her casual lies
And she only reveals what she wants you to see
She hides like a child
But she's always a woman to me
She can lead you to live
She can take you or leave you
She can ask for the truth
But she'll never believe you
And she'll take what you give her as long as it's free
She steals like a thief
But she's always a woman to me
Oh, she takes care of herself
She can wait if she wants
She's ahead of her time
Oh, and she never gives out
And she never gives in
She just changes her mind
She will promise you more
Than the Garden of Eden
Then she'll carelessly cut you
And laugh while you're bleedin'
But she'll bring out the best
And the worst you can be
Blame it all on yourself
Cause she's always a woman to me
She is frequently kind
And she's suddenly cruel
She can do as she pleases
She's nobody's fool
But she can't be convicted
She's earned her degree
And the most she will do
Is throw shadows at you
But she's always a woman to me
-
Happy birthday Wombat! January birthdays still rule!
-
Thank you for the song, Smells. I am touched.
It reminds me that Edward Gorey once said much the same thing in fewer words - a former student gave me a card of it once:
Her laugh made beetles swoon; her frown
Made geese and cows turn upside down.
Hey - I'm going to go downstairs now and laugh at the beetles and see if it works.
-
All the capybaras from Brazil wish you a happy birthday. And so do I.
-
All the capybaras from Brazil wish you a happy birthday. And so do I.
Oh! Oh! Thank you!
And don't youall forget to wish Edgar Allan Poe a happy birthday too. Just because he's dead doesn't mean he won't appreciate it.
-
Oh! Oh! Thank you!
And don't youall forget to wish Edgar Allan Poe a happy birthday too. Just because he's dead doesn't mean he won't appreciate it.
Hell, he might prefer it.
Happy b-day wombat, from deep in the bowels of academe. No matter how bad your birthday is, at least you (probably) didn't have to lecture freshmen today.
Not that I did either, but it is the thought that counts.
-
Yeah, I did not have to lecture anydamnbody today. The reptiles were all very well behaved and did not need a good talking-to, or anything. I am so busy being thankful that I no longer work at a certain zoo in a certain city in a certain mid-Atlantic state that will remain nameless, that I forget to be thankful for that too these days. Which is rather lovely, actually.
And so far my birthday has been pretty good. We have decided to save the drunken carousing for tomorrow, since I have the weekend off. But I went out to lunch with my boss - whose birthday is also today! - and we had a good gossip. And some really cool looking chocolate just arrived in the mail. And I have really excellent imaginary friends and lots of tiny cans. And none of my ships have come in, but there are some little rowboats on the horizon. Altogether not bad.
-
There, that's your eleventy-first can. It's good to see someone careful to prevent the moral turpitude of the herpetological.