smokingboot

Zombies, cricket, fondue, cheesemmm, c*ntpuffins, w*nkparrots and how to create puerile obscenities; too much wine, baked potatoes, giant sheep, meat fondoooooh...

Empty pockets, exhausted bods and jangled nerves meant we had cancelled our party earlier this month; instead, the idea was a small dinner, with a couple of chums. Somehow said chums brought the party atmosphere with them, and the night turned into an excellent example of joyful wreckage. Thanks to

bad_moon_rising,

november_girl,

ephraim,

lauremer,

scary_lady,

ellistar, and the hard work of my darling

larians.

There was fascinating and intellectual conversation, which somehow devolved into the creation of an unforgettable* nativity play. There were cigars which I somehow always managed to miss; and there was some straightening out of stuff in my head, courtesy of wisdom and friendship. Cheers

ephraim.

Sunday morning was a time when hangovers ruled the earth. Oh, and cricket too. But when the cricket was done, with victory in our hearts, we went to the Black Ladd on the side of a hill, and tried to eat.

If this sounds like the kind of weekend you would rather shoot yourself than take part in, you are probably quite wise. But we enjoyed it. A gift of deepest evil came from

scary_lady and

ellistar; it is, ostensibly, a smoothie maker. It even has a tap. Smoothies eh? The company's collective brain launched itself at the concept of cocktails, and indeed, the poor contraption must be christened sometime...

A fine weekend. Thank you all.

*and I did try.