Heavy hangs the head

Occassionally, I decide to stay home and clean. Frequently, this doesn’t go as planned. Last night I was cleaning – moving things from one room to another, finding nostalgic items and getting distracted for hours – when I received a text from Passed The Sniff Test. He was studying for an upcoming exam and needed a break from his books. I had vacuumed one room, loaded and started the dishwasher, and was exhausted, so we deicided to stoop.

Passed The Sniff Test arrived just after nine and, just after midnight, we decided to invite That’s Night Chinese to our impromptu stoop time (which had moved indoors, it was cold outside). She came right over and we were having a lovely time sipping wine and reminicsing when I received a call from Tree.

“I’m at a college party with my FatGirl and I’ve got some shit for you to blog,” he excitedly informed me. I grabbed my pen and paper and told him I was ready. “OK. So, there is this Polynesian gay and he is walking out eating hot dogs.” “That’s it?” I asked. “Yes,” he proudly replied. “Why are you at a college party?” “Because FatGirl goes to college.” “Well leave there and come here, there are no Polynesians eating hot dogs, but I’ve got wine  and we’re having a little soiree.”

Several bars and phone calls later, we heard Tree and FatGirl outside. They were so loud, it was impossible to not hear them. “The gays are here,” I announced. Tree had an hankering for a cigarette and asked That’s Not Chinese for one. “I quit smoking in October,” she told him. “You don’t have any, not even one?” he asked and added, “I’m gonna have to smell my fingers if you don’t have a cigarette.”

A little while later, we decided to do our new favorite thing: the unison drunk dial. Rusty Rogue Rafael was once again the lucky recipient. To take it up a notch, we video chatted with him. Poor guy. Five people talking at him all at once and That’s Not Chinese, a lover of face time, giving and taking 100% of the lens.

Several hours later, we were all in bed. Some in our own bed, some not. Regardless of where we all laid our heads, one thing was certain, all of our heads were going to be hurting in the morning. As Mrs. Vernon-Williams would say, “Heavy hangs the head that last night wore (in our case, drank) the crown.”

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