okay, my unfortunate use of the word "pickles" in this post has led people to wonder whether the rabbit died. you know, if there's a bun in the oven. if i'm in a family way.
the answer is no, and shame on you* for wondering. the choice of the word pickles was of an inside joke with myself that is pretty esoteric. and i failed to forget that stereotypically, women crave pickles when they're knocked up. which, i cannot repeat enough, I AM NOT.
*except maryam, because i could never tell her shame on her, because she's too darn tootin' cute.
important enough to reiterate
Posted by
heatherfeather
Friday, September 08, 2006
8 comments:
ha ha. They thought you were knocked up.
If you ever have a child, I vow to call him or her "pickles" every chance I get.
look, if you name it after me, make sure there is no hyphen or space in Particleman. it's one word, Particleman. thanks.
This is confusing, but I'm used to being confused. Pickles are a delight. I'm talking about honest to god pickles here, people.
Ooh, you're moody. That's another sign of pregnancy.
Nice blog you got here.
I believe you, Heatherfeather.
ah shucks.
Wow, I totally didn't make any sort of pregnancy connection...but maybe that's because I know you well enough to know that's not what you were talking about. That and I was so preoccupied with trying to put the Vlassic pickle bird into my comment that it didn't occur to me.
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