We've got more creative contests this week. While we tally up the votes, Frank and Meme have embarked on a secret mission to Vegas. Of course, all work and no play makes Frank nibble wires, so Meme has been hitting the slot machines (she's up 100 bucks), while Frank has been growling "hit me" at the blackjack table (*will not divulge stats*). They'
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Cameron, they'd redeemed you with just some blonde hair! What the fuck, writers!
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I thought Thirteen got on a plane and left?
*pointedly does not rant again about Kutner's 'exit' from the House Writers' Dumpster of Dumbassed Ideas We Routinely Go Diving In.
Oh, well. Hm. Do you write fic? Care to swap comments? I'd love to read some new stuff...unless it has something to do with Wilson. I just want to kick Wilson in the 'nads and that's been going on four years now.
There is no saving him because the writers seem to enjoy this shit.
*sighs*
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I know! And when I say a few buck, I mean maximum $10!
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