Thursday, December 25, 2008

When Bloodshot Orbs Are Groaning...

Can't remember the last time I awoke hungover with a hot blonde stuck to my torso on Christmas morning, but my desanguinated, smiling mug tells the sordid tale. The gals opened the champagne just as I departed for death, and the buzzards fly over the wreckage even as I bleed...



("The silent witnesses" -- Claudia's succinct comment.)

--

Jesus would want you to know the grape,

Tom

Merry (Hic!) Chrrahsssmusss...

We're already past the third bottle of vino. Claudia's broken open the vodka and the conversation seems no less near abating than it did two hours before. Marisol arrived after midnight, and Svantje, CP and I are fairly well lit. Our ride will be here in eight hours and fifteen minutes. Oy...

Love to All, More Booze for Us,

TS