:murmuring: They ARE surprisingly compatible, aren’t they? Then again, I guess it could just mean that there’s a little bit of Nick in Virginia after all.
Well, there would have been the written statement sent out on the newsfeed, the twitter announcement, and the press conference. Since they are trying to keep as low a profile as possible while walking around in an office building, it’s best that Dr. Lee gets her bragging done this way.
I glad for Ginny and Nick, really.
Last time i joining a Mile High Club there were shooting and shouting and explosion and I have to jump out the plane.
Now that I’ve had a chance to think about it, this method actually at least avoids the possibility of humorous misunderstandings later. “Yes, we’re now shtupping — is that the right word, Nick?”
Oh, like any of this is an argument against being called Mad? Remember, Helen and Dave are both Mad. Helen not only schlorped Dave’s brains, but she also brought him back from the dead in a cloned body. And Dave was even a cyborg for a while. Any of this sound familiar?
Let’s not forget that real romantic love lends a certain special something to the experience, not to mention the fog tends to hide what would otherwise be detrimental.
Someone mentioned that, too, in the comments to the September 16th strip. But that was a ways down the page from the Fenchurch and Arthur comment, so it’s possible you saw the thread before that had been added.
Sometimes weâre up, sometimes weâre down.
And sometimes we move a little out of bounds.
Oh, just when we show we had made it.
After aftershocks, Skin-Horse will talk
We wanna live it in the sweet spot.
We donât just want, we just wanna taste it.
Talkinâ bout a sweet reason that we find.
Sure seems a real affair.
We know we can do it anywhere,
Just like a copter flyinâ in the air.
Sometimes weâre up, sometimes weâre down.
And sometimes our groove machine is due.
Oh, thundering, thundering when we have made it.
But weâve joined the club, for a one-night stand.
And weâll find some reasons for plumbing away.
And weâve willed us our life in the open, a life put so bluntly.
Iâm talkinâ bout a sweet reason that we find.
Sure seems a real affair.
We know we can do it anywhere,
Just like a copter flyinâ in the air.
Sweetheart: “Yes, I know. We all know. You were repeatedly hitting the transmit button with I don’t want to guess what, and snatches of your activities were coming straight through comms. I have enough headaches with Tip giving play-by-play, please don’t add to it and come to the strategy meeting.”
And the basement creatures have already written the libretto, and have started casting and rehearsals for their new comic opera, Die Fledergroink. Stage sets are a problem, since they donât want to be accused of copying Miss Saigon. A fan, eggbeater and electric mixer are being considered. Since the fan and mixer are sentient, they are fighting with the tenor for the lead billing. The tenor, looking for the âsweet spotâ on stage where his singing wonât be drowned out by the sound of the rotors, has several good reasons to lobby for the diffident eggbeater to play his alter ego. Ginny is sung by an off-coloratura. Mr. Green is the resident basso who usually sings the Doge or other villain-de-jour. A wooly caterpillar is singing Sweetheart. Unity is played by a tumbling stinkbug. They are waiting to see in what condition Tip might be returned, and have a countertenor lined up, just in case…
:murmuring: They ARE surprisingly compatible, aren’t they? Then again, I guess it could just mean that there’s a little bit of Nick in Virginia after all.
Maybe in nine months we’ll know if there was.
“A *little* bit? It was a decently-sized bit, even after the bris.”
I’m so glad Ginny handled this delicately. Who knows what things would have been like if she had chosen to be brazen instead? ^_~
Well, there would have been the written statement sent out on the newsfeed, the twitter announcement, and the press conference. Since they are trying to keep as low a profile as possible while walking around in an office building, it’s best that Dr. Lee gets her bragging done this way.
Good thing they’ve all gone rogue. All that fraternization paperwork to fill out…
I’m Sweetheart is already working on developing new paperwork to fit their new circumstances.
That is to say, “I’m sure Sweetheart is…”
Yeah. I keep dropping words all the time. I don’t like to incoherent.
Same here when I’m writing my fiction.
I reread and say to myself “What the hell?”
Kudos to Salty for calling it!
I can’t take all the credit. It was always going to be the kind of thing ONE of them said about having goinked in a flying helicopter.
I glad for Ginny and Nick, really.
Last time i joining a Mile High Club there were shooting and shouting and explosion and I have to jump out the plane.
Maybe you’re doing it wrong…
If that was handling it delicately, what would bold and brash look like?
Going into detail about what they did, probably.
She said she *wanted* to handle it delicately. This takes no account of her ability to *actually* handle it delicately đ
Maybe next time he makes her fly will be more bold and brash than the delicate handling two strips back.
I’m guessing at least a megaphone and a brass band
Now that I’ve had a chance to think about it, this method actually at least avoids the possibility of humorous misunderstandings later. “Yes, we’re now shtupping — is that the right word, Nick?”
“…Yes.”
Depends on whether or not you can trail a 500-foot-long banner from a copter, one that says “LET’S SEE THEM CALL ME MAD *NOW,* HUH?”
Oh, like any of this is an argument against being called Mad? Remember, Helen and Dave are both Mad. Helen not only schlorped Dave’s brains, but she also brought him back from the dead in a cloned body. And Dave was even a cyborg for a while. Any of this sound familiar?
ALL of Nick’s sex has been mile-high-club worthy.
That sounds really impressive… until you remember that this was his first time.
Spot on!
I’m guessing, from Dr. Lee’s reaction, that she thought being goinked by Nick was pretty good.
Anticipation!
Let’s not forget that real romantic love lends a certain special something to the experience, not to mention the fog tends to hide what would otherwise be detrimental.
Whether or not she is one of them herself, Ginny has that turning-on-a-dime unpredictability that is so characteristic of the Mad.
would Nick and Ginny’s baby would wear a propeller beanie ?
I don’t think they’ve discussed their child’s religion yet.
Not so simple. She has to officially convert, or baby is officially goy.
And here I was expecting their kid to be a Flying Spaghetti Monster adherent.
Ah, the inevitable “what will the children be like” question
“Sorry, you wanted us to meet in 15 minutes?”
“…months, now I want us to meet in 15 months”
It looks like Nick supersized his hand to do a sufficiently dramatic facepalm
Oh, I don’t know. My hand covers that much of my face.
Same, and I have small hands. Huh… I wonder how many readers just facepalmed to check? đ
Take a victory lap, Virginia, come back in 5.
Late to the party, but it’s interesting someone mentioned Fenchurch and Arthur when I was thinking Night Owl and Laurie in the owl copter.
Someone mentioned that, too, in the comments to the September 16th strip. But that was a ways down the page from the Fenchurch and Arthur comment, so it’s possible you saw the thread before that had been added.
Sometimes weâre up, sometimes weâre down.
And sometimes we move a little out of bounds.
Oh, just when we show we had made it.
After aftershocks, Skin-Horse will talk
We wanna live it in the sweet spot.
We donât just want, we just wanna taste it.
Talkinâ bout a sweet reason that we find.
Sure seems a real affair.
We know we can do it anywhere,
Just like a copter flyinâ in the air.
Sometimes weâre up, sometimes weâre down.
And sometimes our groove machine is due.
Oh, thundering, thundering when we have made it.
But weâve joined the club, for a one-night stand.
And weâll find some reasons for plumbing away.
And weâve willed us our life in the open, a life put so bluntly.
Iâm talkinâ bout a sweet reason that we find.
Sure seems a real affair.
We know we can do it anywhere,
Just like a copter flyinâ in the air.
Talkinâ âbout sweet reasons.
Talkinâ âbout sweet, sweet, sweet reasons.
Talkinâ âbout sweet reasons.
Talkinâ âbout sweet reasonsâŚ
—from “Sweet Seasons,” Carole King.
Tip would be so proud.
Sweetheart: “Yes, I know. We all know. You were repeatedly hitting the transmit button with I don’t want to guess what, and snatches of your activities were coming straight through comms. I have enough headaches with Tip giving play-by-play, please don’t add to it and come to the strategy meeting.”
And the basement creatures have already written the libretto, and have started casting and rehearsals for their new comic opera, Die Fledergroink. Stage sets are a problem, since they donât want to be accused of copying Miss Saigon. A fan, eggbeater and electric mixer are being considered. Since the fan and mixer are sentient, they are fighting with the tenor for the lead billing. The tenor, looking for the âsweet spotâ on stage where his singing wonât be drowned out by the sound of the rotors, has several good reasons to lobby for the diffident eggbeater to play his alter ego. Ginny is sung by an off-coloratura. Mr. Green is the resident basso who usually sings the Doge or other villain-de-jour. A wooly caterpillar is singing Sweetheart. Unity is played by a tumbling stinkbug. They are waiting to see in what condition Tip might be returned, and have a countertenor lined up, just in case…
Magnificent! Worthy of a side story of it’s own!
I can’t believe the “LOL he wishes” jokes from Choose are finally obsolete–
Ginny Blushes #34, and a particularly cute example it is too.