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07/27/2005: "On Your Knees Bitch - in the limo"
A shot from inside the limo...
This movie sucks
And another bit of Crickett's LiveJournal entry about this day:
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3:24 am
Well, they came back with the limo, got the last shot, and then we were outta there. The friendly limo driver, Leo, kindly helped us get all the various crap out of the back of the car. It was pretty funny to see him pick up the giant wad of paper towels and baby wipes, look a little confused, have the penny drop, and then put the wad (probably containing The Wad) back down again. We think that he only climbed in there to get another look up K.'s skirt anyhow. (Not that you can really BLAME the guy, of course.)
After that it was just "prom shots" (taking a photo of the performer holding their IDs next to their faces, part of the Article 2257 requirements), mocking yet another meat puppet for having trucker butt (we have no idea how on earth his pants stayed on), and then deciding what we were going to do for dinner. Sushi was the winner.
Now? I'm tired. Like, really fucking beat. I'm not the only one. K.'s having a Helmet Day today, I'm totally fragged, and B. was ready to slaughter due to the weird power outages that we were having. I think we should all go get some sleep.
I thought we were going to go to bed. Ha! We went downstairs grumbling and bitching about "tired" and "feet hurt" and "stupid bug bites" and every other thing under the sun and then K. peered into the pantry and said, "BROWNIES!!! I want brownies right now." So, of course, I did what any sensible, tired assistant would do. I replied, "That sounds FABULOUS! And they're FAT FREE!" So, if you were watching the cams wanting to know just what the HELL we were doing, we were...standing around in the kitchen eating brownies straight out of the pan with forks. It was a moment of female bonding, the late night brownie ritual, and one that many others will recognize. Even Tweek, the only girlcat here, came over and hung out with us. She didn't have any brownies, but that's because she can't hold a fork. (Yes, we even allowed B. to have some. Offered, even. Initially, he turned us down, but in the end even he could not resist the tractor-beam pull of the wafting scent of brownies lilting upstairs to where he was reading in bed.)
-Crickett
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