Double entendre. Ha!
Terry is v. transfixed by a football game...which was true three hours ago, when I began to write this blog post. I would like to claim that I am perfectly sober and reliable as a narrator of my own story, but that would require a leather jacket and a 'mission accomplished' banner, neither of which are easily procurable or accurate. So I will fill you in by saying that I had a birthday party/royal baby shower today, which went off with flying colors.
As usual, I way overextended myself and made way too much food, but this is not something I regret. As usual, Chandlord threw a drink down my shirt, then demanded to have cake (which I had no intention of baking). As usual, Adit called and feigned ignorance of my party, only to show up ninety seconds later. As usual, Heather (aka dear respected madam) was a v. good sport. As usual, Katrina didn't understand basic human sexuality. As usual, John made awkward sexual references to my fake baby doll (who was Prince George for the evening). As usual, Subz took me at my word and showed up with a fascinator, which was v. welcome.
So basically, as usual, everyone was totally ridic. I made a v. tasty champagne punch with cognac, triple sec, and grand marnier, which was dangerous and encouraged bad behavior. And bad behavior was easily achieved - this was one of zee most enjoyable nights I've had in quite some time, particularly since everyone turned my ham sandwich into a birthday cake and did a candle ceremony for me (in which everyone said something nice, then blew out their candle, which got dangerous for the last people to go since the candles were dangerously short by that point).
Post party, I went out with Adit and Priyanka, which was a mistake I was willing to live with. Then Priyanka and I talked for a bit before I uber'd it home like the fancy bitch I am. And now I must go to sleep - goodnight!
Terry is v. transfixed by a football game...which was true three hours ago, when I began to write this blog post. I would like to claim that I am perfectly sober and reliable as a narrator of my own story, but that would require a leather jacket and a 'mission accomplished' banner, neither of which are easily procurable or accurate. So I will fill you in by saying that I had a birthday party/royal baby shower today, which went off with flying colors.
As usual, I way overextended myself and made way too much food, but this is not something I regret. As usual, Chandlord threw a drink down my shirt, then demanded to have cake (which I had no intention of baking). As usual, Adit called and feigned ignorance of my party, only to show up ninety seconds later. As usual, Heather (aka dear respected madam) was a v. good sport. As usual, Katrina didn't understand basic human sexuality. As usual, John made awkward sexual references to my fake baby doll (who was Prince George for the evening). As usual, Subz took me at my word and showed up with a fascinator, which was v. welcome.
So basically, as usual, everyone was totally ridic. I made a v. tasty champagne punch with cognac, triple sec, and grand marnier, which was dangerous and encouraged bad behavior. And bad behavior was easily achieved - this was one of zee most enjoyable nights I've had in quite some time, particularly since everyone turned my ham sandwich into a birthday cake and did a candle ceremony for me (in which everyone said something nice, then blew out their candle, which got dangerous for the last people to go since the candles were dangerously short by that point).
Post party, I went out with Adit and Priyanka, which was a mistake I was willing to live with. Then Priyanka and I talked for a bit before I uber'd it home like the fancy bitch I am. And now I must go to sleep - goodnight!
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