What's making you happy today?

[Sundae]

Thank goodness Bri is still with us.
This is the house I'm going to buy us, hon.
You see how it's far too large for me & Diz alone.

We'll get married when the Government sanctions it.

[zippyt]

Im for it

[Chocolatl]

I've been dairy free for two weeks now, after being told my daughter was probably lactose intolerant. I noticed an immediate difference as soon as I dropped the dairy -- Beans was visibly no longer in pain. Her tummy troubles have been getting better day by day, and today we had a poop that was very quiet and perfectly normal -- as opposed to two weeks ago, when I'm pretty sure they could be heard on Mars. My lactose freeness has paid off.

Pretty soon I'll try some dark chocolate and see how that goes.

Happy baby, happy mom.

[Clodfobble]

Wonderful!

[limey]

There's a company in the UK called Booja Booja who make dairy free chocolates. Jus' sayin'.

Sent by thought transference.

[BigV]

Tonight Twil and I are going to Town Hall Seattle to listen to a talk given by Naomi Wolf about her new book Vagina: A New Biography. The title of the talk is "The Science of the Brain-Vagina Connection". I heard a very interesting interview with her on KUOW today.

I'm an eager student when it comes to female sexuality. I love learning and the homework is *awesome*.

[Aliantha]

I'm happy because I AM a good person after all. Thanks Tril!

[Sundae]

I think you are a good person too. And so does my Mum.
I would suggest we're a quorum at least, and the vote has been counted and verified.

[Aliantha]

Awww...I love you Cherry! (and your Mum too, but you don't have to tell her that if you don't want to) xxx

[Trilby]

Ali, you always were a good person-I just didn't understand Oz women very much - just like I don't understand why Dana lives in Stubbing Wharf - or is that her alcoholic lesbian auntie? I can't remember.

Cherry-LOVE the house. but where's the pool, darling? We MUST have one, even a small one, so we can have a pool boy- preferably of Argentinian heritage.

[DanaC]

Hey! I resemble that remark!

I live in the village of Northowram. Quite nearby Southowram and the twinned hamlets of Shelf and Stone Chair :P

Yes those are real places. Though the designation 'hamlet' is no longer apt.

[Sundae]

Tril, so sorry to break it to you, but a pool would be used approx 5 days a year in my part of the world.
And we do not have Argentinian pool boys either.

You'd be moving to a place of Morris Dancers, unpasteurised cheese, church fetes, meat raffles, pork pies and supermarkets where the rudeness is local but the bread is not.

But I will ensure underfloor heating, woodburning stoves, Jedi robes like the one Dani has, PROPER showers, a street market every Tuesday and a fair which closes down the whole High Street for five days every Autumn. And we can go to stores in London that sell any food you miss from home. And we'll be so charming we'll get them to deliver.

There. How could anyone resist being Mrs Sundae?
Oh. Right. The above all depends on me winning millions of £.
Hmmmmm. Maybe I should make a case for the real me, beggardly as I am. And to a member of the opposite gender, given that that's my preference.

[jimhelm]

Originally Posted by Griff

Lil' G got invited to Yuletide by a lad today. Asked to describe him she said, Zeppelin fan.

Husband!

[Griff]

No! Bad Jim! Bad Jim.

[footfootfoot]

I guess Griff has earned his dad card.

Song To Be Sung by the Father of Infant Female Children
by Ogden Nash

My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky;
Contrariwise, my blood runs cold
When little boys go by.
For little boys as little boys,
No special hate I carry,
But now and then they grow to men,
And when they do, they marry.
No matter how they tarry,
Eventually they marry.
And, swine among the pearls,
They marry little girls.

Oh, somewhere, somewhere, an infant plays,
With parents who feed and clothe him.
Their lips are sticky with pride and praise,
But I have begun to loathe him.
Yes, I loathe with loathing shameless
This child who to me is nameless.
This bachelor child in his carriage
Gives never a thought to marriage,
But a person can hardly say knife
Before he will hunt him a wife.

I never see an infant (male),
A-sleeping in the sun,
Without I turn a trifle pale
And think is he the one?
Oh, first he'll want to crop his curls,
And then he'll want a pony,
And then he'll think of pretty girls,
And holy matrimony.
A cat without a mouse
Is he without a spouse.

Oh, somewhere he bubbles bubbles of milk,
And quietly sucks his thumbs.
His cheeks are roses painted on silk,
And his teeth are tucked in his gums.
But alas the teeth will begin to grow,
And the bubbles will cease to bubble;
Given a score of years or so,
The roses will turn to stubble.
He'll sell a bond, or he'll write a book,
And his eyes will get that acquisitive look,
And raging and ravenous for the kill,
He'll boldly ask for the hand of Jill.
This infant whose middle
Is diapered still
Will want to marry My daughter Jill.

Oh sweet be his slumber and moist his middle!
My dreams, I fear, are infanticiddle.
A fig for embryo Lohengrins!
I'll open all his safety pins,
I'll pepper his powder, and salt his bottle,
And give him readings from Aristotle.
Sand for his spinach I'll gladly bring,
And Tabasco sauce for his teething ring.
Then perhaps he'll struggle through fire and water
To marry somebody else's daughter.