You have amazed me yet again. Yogsloth! Erm... Dean Sloth! You are one clever woman!

Ah, what a warm welcome back. Should I be looking forward to becoming a pretzel?

Also, don't forget to ask dedoporno the crucial question.

And nice catch on the LAMIST and WIFOM.


Wait, were there no men at the cocktail party last night? Are we all single and alone? Bleh!
Or are you not into men?



Is that the only reason you want the window opened? You wouldn't by chance be the one that called the journalists, would you?


So, does this fancy new school have no security? And Lifthrasil does have a point, why didn't the Dean call the police?
Also, if flubbucket was the second to arrive, did she have anything to do with the death of the Professor of Economics? Does the order in which we arrived play a role?

Interesting that Leonard03 cares more about us rejecting hockey

Not me. I left my hubby back home. I miss him but I know Gregory and his dear wife are taking good care of him. And he promised to take little Artie out for ice cream every Saturday. I do miss them...
*sniff*

:D

@HypersomniacLive
Men are like bus stops, there's always another one around the corner so I ride them when I need them. Prefer me a good woman though ;-)


@dedoporno
So are you scum?

So you do have an eye for Dean!

I do look pretty good for my early fifties.

Oooh, I know this one.

So okay I'll be like over here like working on my tan.

Vote: Krypsyn

Try to pull my bikini strings will ya !!!!

That strange rustling! Not, my dear children, the leaves being rustled by the wind. Mother nature may play her hand, in the form of wind, through the hair of this earth, namely leaves in trees - Then again, grass could be the earth's hair, metaphorically, but we'll say leaves. Leaves, yes. So, mother nature may play her hand, which is wind, through the hair of this earth, namely the leaves, but that is not the sound that we are hearing currently.

You can hear it: The value of this property deteriorating as we speak. Ghastly! Ghastly! Any future options for taking out loans, setting up trusts or some such to generate income for our university, all gone. Everything I touch turns to a handful of sticky, dead sparrows. Sparrows covered - Absolutely covered, I say! - in the sticky substances of shame, disappointment and regret. Woe!

That hockey lover is behind this. Mark my words. That hockey lover is behind this.

This talk of plants makes me think maybe you're a plant. An invasive murderous plant.

He's probably the Professor of Plantology or some subjective nonsense like that.


Vote cristigale because you're playing. And it's RVS. So why not.

I could be mistaken, but I'm certainly not on drugs.

HAH! That's just what a plant would say. Your status is yet to be determined, just as with the rest of you. I'm watching you all and taking notes.

Let me know if you need ink or paper. I can sell you both.

Good thing we're a business school and not a school of medicine. ;)