So Ben's here refusing to hit me back like the girly-man he is (oh wait, oh wait, here we go...) (no wait, he's on the phone, big chicken girly-man) and Kaff's here (oh wait, hey, that wasn't a half-bad punch considering he's all tangled up in a geek-chair thing) astradlin' my canopy bed and we're drinkin' down the 1992 Dom Perignon (not the one I won at the golf tournament, the one he brought) and we've all swigged from the bottle of Chartreuse and we ate like, well, I'd say kings but it was more like really hungry bohemians at Santropol...

...which if you ever come visit you will be taken to for dinner because it is just oh so Montreal.

And, uhm, we're talking and shit, and kaff's takin' photos, so ungungung. (I'm gonnagonow)

:)

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backup ..random chance.. rollover

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