Rebecca

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Everything posted by Rebecca

  1. Well, now you're a tiny bit closer! Good luck, chica!! you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  2. Rebecca

    1000 !!!

    Nope! Just one more! Give it to me, baby! you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  3. Rebecca

    1000 !!!

    go go go!!! you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  4. Grr. Growing up in the military and moving around all the time, I developed a deep-seated prejudice against ALL movers. In all the many times we moved, it never failed that something got screwed up due to sheer negligence, or downright evil. Bastards even stole one of my favorite Barbies. Last time I moved by myself these unsavory guys tried to renegotiate the price before they had lifted one box... it was kinda scary... Sorry, off-topic. Cora, the only thing I can say is do it yourself/with friends, or be VERY careful about who you get- watch them ALL the time, and have someone come over to help watch and keep you company. Good luck sweetie!! you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  5. Okay El Perdido, get posting!! My thread envy is reaching nigh uncontrollable proportions- I may very well snap. I just can't deal with having a sub-par thread, when everyone else's are SO impressive!! What am I going to do about it? You wanna go, little boy? You do NOT wanna tangle with me. Trust me. Damn. I just scared myself. [shudder] you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  6. Hey! Leave Ferdi alone! And fill in your profile! Thanks, but I have plenty of other issues to deal with before 'thread envy' is a problem for me. you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  7. You're welcome!! I figured I owed you... OK, back on track: I've got Foo Fighters' 'Times Like These' accoustic version stuck in my head, which I am just fine with. I love that band. you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  8. Oh, I know 'They' are out to get me. For real. Shh! Did you hear that? you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  9. Bwahaha!!! This thread is actually what inspired me to post my thread!! Well, this was the last straw, anyway. Oh, yeah, BUMP! you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  10. Thanks TB! That's amazing! Don't know if I'll ever have the guts to try something like that... you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  11. OMG!! I'm so happy!! I actually started a thread that survived overnight on the first page! Woo hoo! You guys rock! (but then, you knew that, right Sebazz and JT?) Oh yeah? Well, it's my thread and I'll post-whore if I want to, post-whore if I want to, post-whore if I want to... so there! (hee hee! 4 in a row is a bit gratuitous, isn't it? ) Thanks darlin'- you always put things into such comforting perspective. OK, I'm getting a Hot Body suit! No, not really, just a regular competition suit, but it will FIT and it will look HOT!
  12. I feel like I'm performing CPR... Well guys and gals, I gotta go. I'm ordering a Bev suit tonight, and then maybe going to see Pirates of the Carribean. Please, make a nice girl happy and keep posting something, anything. you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  13. I'm just a little confused by it, but if that's your bag, baby, having a blue face and all, well then, that's just groovy. you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  14. Hey, at least it wouldn't have been ME who killed the thread! you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  15. Hee hee! My, how very observant of you! Thanks for posting, all of you. I was sure that a collective smart-ass conspiracy would take hold, and no one was going to post anything... Shut up, Rebecca, or that's exactly what will happen. Just don't give them any ideas. you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  16. It seems like every thread I start posting to dies pretty shortly thereafter, typically with my post being last. Now, I know most threads don't live forever, but I feel like I'm the one killing them. Does anyone else feel that way? Or am I just paranoid? you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  17. Thanks for pasting that for me!
  18. If it's not too long, could someone copy and post the article for me? The internet nazis at my co. don't like 's*x' in the title of the page or the url... gets 'em all worked up and censor-happy... Thanks! you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  19. Andy wasn't a BeeGee, related or not- go ahead and make fun of him. Ooh- now I have 'Jive Talkin' in my head... groovy. you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  20. Ack! Now you've done it! That's OK- I actually like that song... Oh yeah, it's good and stuck. edit: Me too! But only the short, dark-haired one. And who was making fun of the BeeGees? I'll have none of that!! you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  21. Ya know what? Even that is better than what I was fixated on. Bless you, Ivan. Dear God, what am I saying? you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  22. "Intuition", also by Jewel. I hate that f'ing song. And I don't even have the whole thing running through my head, noooo, just the really annoying part: "Follow your heaaaArt, your intuiiiItion..." Somebody please shoot me. you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  23. [thinking to self] Oh... PM... never thought of that... duh. [/thinking to self] Thank you Jumpergirl, you're too kind for recognizing that I have superior mental abilities, but I'm sure everyone here has already realized that. [thinking to self] Mwahahaha! That oughta keep 'em fooled! [/thinking to self] you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  24. HOW COULD YOU By Jim Wills, 2001 This piece touched me, It is beautifully written and applies to any animal that can be kept as a pet, I hope it affects you too. Please be sure before you buy that puppy or kitten When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad", you'd shake your finger at me and ask "how could you?" But then you'd relent, and roll me over for a belly rub. My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be anymore perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs," you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day. Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love. She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love". As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch-- because your touch was now so infrequent--and I would have defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway. There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf. Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family. I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understood the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to prise your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?" They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you, that you had changed your mind -- that this was all a bad dream...or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realised I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate. I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a seperate room. A blissfully quiet room. she placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood. She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?" Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained that it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself -- a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It was you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty. THE END. A note from the author: -- If "How Could You?" brought tears to your eyes as you read it, as it did to mine as I wrote it, It is because it is the composite story of the millions of formerly owned pets who die every year in Animal Shelters around the world. Anyone is welcome to distribute the essay for a noncommercial purpose, as long as it is properly attributed. Please use it to help educate, on your websites, in your newsletters, on animal shelters and Vet office bulletin boards. Tell the public that the decision to add a pet to the family is an important one for life, that animals deserve our love and sensible care, that finding another appropriate home for your animal is your responsibility and any local humane society or animal welfare league can offer you good advice, and that all life is precious. Please do your part to stop the killing, and encourage all spay and neuter campaigns in order to prevent unwanted animals. Postscript:- A man in Michigan, USA. took out a $7000.00 full page advertisment in the paper to present this essay to the public. It really touched my heart and I hope it has yours too. you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?
  25. This is exactly why I'm not a pet-owner, much as I'd like to be... you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel loquacious?' -- well do you, punk?