Because radio buttons are fun.
There was no prior poll in this journal. You're imagining things. Even if there had been, and I'd thought better of it, it would have been for reasons that aren't mentionable. So don't mention it. No, I mean really, don't. Now, let me put on these sunglasses, and if you'll just look this way . . . *flashy-thing*
Pasta should be . . .
just a bit soft
fed to someone else
Steak should be . . .
fed to a meat-eater
Toast should be . . .
a shade darker than white
made by a slaving undergraduate over a fire
avoided, because why ruin perfectly nice soft bread?
Chocolate should be . . .
I saved Latin. What did you ever do?
You mean you never saw one of those guys who ties up balloons into the shapes of animals?
Maybe you're the plucky comic relief. Have you ever considered that?
But when a girl gives a boy a dead squid--*that has to mean something*.
Dissect my thought processes if you must but don't hold me responsible for my appearance while you do so.
To absent friends, lost loves, old gods, and the season of mists; and may each and every one of us always give the devil his due.
I believe that truth is beauty, but not, I'm afraid, the reverse.
I wish that wishes were indeed horses, and that therefore, being beggars, we could ride.
Actually, these are radio buttons.
Haven't you updated your quote file since 2001?