Alright, I'm going to have to learn to like roses after all.
The raclette party turned out to be a "celibacy" party and there were a few protests when Crystal protectively announced that I wasn't celibate, I was worse - chaste.
It was very sweet.
We ate ourselves silly.
Then played pictionary for three hours.
C'est pas evident in french, when I have to keep looking up words like "nenuphar" (lily pad) and "couiner" (squeak, as opposed to have your balls squeezed as I suggested - from couille-ner...) but we placed second.
Of course, one of the "places and things" words was "Canada" and apparently I still identify - I got it from the three lines as Patrice desperately tried to remember what provinces look like.
He got the prairies, kinda.
He claims to have been attempting to draw the Canadian flag. Who knows, musta been the bordeax.
And the boys were too sweet - they brought a rose for every girl just as a gesture and I'm running out of cupboards to hang them to dry in.
Wallace, Linux-god that he is, brought roses that looked nearly tie-dyed fuschia and beige. Craziness.
THat's it, I'm reverting to my pubescent vocabulary.
Must rest.
Cat is hyper.
It is Friday by now, the Taoist festival of the spirits.
Celebrate that with roses, k?
Oh yeah, and I'm:
OSCAR.
I'm a wild and crazy guy!
Which Sesame Street Character Are You?