Life Is Short, Make A Thread

[where]

But not you.
Or you.
Or possibly you. Ew.

Everyone else is fine.


So, what kills pink? I mean, besides Abs.
I've been asked this very prickly question, given my *cough* artistic sensibilities and all my brain responds with is, "It's a small world after all..."

Well, that's not true. It's hooked on that stupid color wheel. With the blocks of banal color.
I'm only calling it stupid right now, by the way, because it's not finessing for me, the bastard.

Green makes it look like a flower garden.
Red makes it look like the inside of Liz Taylor's head.
White makes it pinker.
Black makes it look like a bordello.
Blue makes it look like a gym that's stuck in the eighties. Spandex all over the damn place.

I'm missing shades and hues and lights and darks. And an answer, of course.
Give it to me good. The pink solution, I mean. Please?

Are you on drugs? If so, can I please have some as well?

 

[bluebell]

Worth it's weight in words... like GC's lawn rising like Preachers at a dying millionaires bedside.

Oh, and too.

Sigh. What a let down. It's early yet. I first read your question as "What kills pain?" I was looking forward to the philosophical discussion to follow.

Hmm.
Every time I say something it seems bound and determined to not make sense to anyone else. I would call it my tragic flaw if I didn't already know myself better than that.

 

[neonlyte]

Oh, and too.


Hmm.
Every time I say something it seems bound and determined to not make sense to anyone else. I would call it my tragic flaw if I didn't already know myself better than that.

Now I know why Catherine-Sophia appealed - at least you didn't get a farting dog sniffing up your skirt. If you want a bigger and darker read... let me know.

 

[bluebell]

Are you on drugs? If so, can I please have some as well?

Remarkably, this is a natural state for me. I don't even drink coffee.

 

[bluebell]

Now I know why Catherine-Sophia appealed - at least you didn't get a farting dog sniffing up your skirt. If you want a bigger and darker read... let me know.

How I love your fingers, Will. They say such good things. You know, in conjunction with your brain (or your "loaf," as Pop Larkin would call it).

You present a tempting offer.
And I'm not even talking about the farting dog.

 

[neonlyte]

How I love your fingers, Will. They say such good things. You know, in conjunction with your brain (or your "loaf," as Pop Larkin would call it).

You present a tempting offer.
And I'm not even talking about the farting dog.

Beijinhos kiss as we say. Pop Larkin

Mail me when you're bored