Remember how I said on Saturday that I was going to Guamaniac's for a nice relaxing night in front of the television? Well, as things often go with him, that ended up not being true. Even though I didn't look my best (hours rolling around with a kitten, followed by a 2-hour nap, tends to make me look a bit disheveled), I agreed to go be his wing-lady, and help him sex-up a beekeeper at Charlie's. I was in a terrific mood, and thus found myself with my pants halfway down as the beekeeper admired my full-leg tattoo (we were going to go to the bathroom, but seriously, I was in a gay bar, an almost-empty gay bar on a Saturday night, what did it matter if I pulled my pants down to my knees so a very nice guy could see the turtle that rides my left thigh?). I don't think a single person noticed. Later we found ourselves at Lipstick 24 to support our DJ friend. All I can say is I was made to dance, and I was completely sober. Some girl grabbed my ass, and Guamaniac managed to accidentally kick my ankle quite hard. Then I drove everyone home in a Mini (man, those puppies have some serious horsepower, but I hated how the inside is set-up, lots of pretty lights but nothing actually conducive to driving).
After what was by most accounts an exciting Saturday, I spent Sunday sleeping late (finally, people, it has been so long), running errands (aka: spending more than I should have at Target, and still forgetting to pick up two, much-needed clocks), pet-sitting Wikus' cats (aka: napping on his couch) and making love to my own couch (aka: Netflix and more Netflix).
I have no kitten updates to provide. Someone, quick, call CSP and have him bring her to me. Since I have no update, I will provide this photo:
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| Crotch Kitten! (Crotch provided by CSP) |
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