last night we had r&k over for dinner. as is typically the case when we commune with these two fun lovers of food, wine and conversation, much wine was consumed. when much wine is consumed, good sense typically exits the premises, being replaced in short order by a rather fine selection of our home made liqueurs (cherry, plum, apricot and god knows what else mr. monkey managed to find hiding under the kitchen sink).
perhaps my formerly useful IQ has
been bludgeoned atrophied into the slimmer end of the single digit spectrum, but sweet lord on a pogo stick, can i not find it within me to remember the one rule that keeps my face out of the toilet at ungodly hours of the night? the solitary piece of advice given to me in increasingly acerbic reminders by my long suffering liver: that i should just bloody well stick to wine and wine alone.
still, when the shower curtain was pulled off the tub, it was not yours truly who did the deed. just saying. and i am fairly certain that in between loudly discussing medieval art (all those bulgy eyed miserable looking vaguely greenish christs - could it be that everyone was that disturbingly hideous all through the middle ages?) and taiwanese politics, i managed to spill nothing on myself or others. kudos to me. i take these small pats on the back wherever i can get them, especially in light of the night's later activities.
i feel that with less than two years to enter my forties, i really ought to know better. and i really ought to know better than to broadcast my idiocy on the interwebs. so, shh, don't tell anyone i'm a moron. (they'll likely figure it out themselves in fairly short order.)