FRIDAY NIGHT AT OUR DINNER/DRINKING SEMINAR 

Nicole:  Is this table tall or do I need a booster seat?
Abbie:  Look, you can sling your titties on it.  Did Jacob Young really try to grab my ass? 

Leigh: So what are we going to do with Angel?
Nicole:  We should give her a fuckin psychic tumor. 

Abbie:  I’m still pissed about that asshole vampire. 

Nicole:  I’ve heard that women who are sexually frustrated take out their energy on crafts.
Abbie:  Wow.  Think how much Rosie (O’Donnell) decoupages!
Katrina:  I’ll bet their crafts take on a phallic shape. 

Tracey:  More rum, less coke. 

Bar Waiter:  (to Abbie, about 10 times)  More coffee?

SATURDAY AT THE PATIO CAFÉ 

Abbie:  (Coltin Scott approaching)  I should give him my cherry.  (she had one from her drink and was mangling the stem) 

Nicole:  What’s going on there?  (Indicates a man carrying about 15 plastic shopping bags of stuff)
Heather:  I think that’s a man’s idea of ‘luggage.’

Poolside Singer:  “Nothing like a little reverb.”  (fidgets with back of speaker)
Katrina:  WHAT??
Heather:  He said, ‘Nothing like a little reverb.’
Katrina:  Oh, I thought he said, ‘Nothing like a little reefer.’  I was going to give him a twenty.

We also learned that we have things in common other than GH.  We all cringe at poor grammar, laugh when people write to criticize OUR grammar and spell "grammar" "g-r-a-m-m-e-r," never read each other's work until a plagiarizing-safe zone of time has passed and are terrified by the people who bounce up and down on the Songs of Faith commercial.