Sunday revels

[muckefuck]

I was feeling out of place at the party. I managed to fuck up my hand punching a bag of ice (don't ask) and was obsessing about it just about the time that the karaoke portion started. Plus a ditzy 20-something bearcub was clinging to me like a limpet and boring everyone with talk of his messed-up housing situation.

Then I ran into the theatre major who had attended the Defense Language Institute in Monterrey.

So, all in all, well worth attending. As a bonus, I got to hear the host tell me he loves me more than his own pubes.

Comments

[mollpeartree.livejournal.com]

Ice bags are for dropping from increasing heights from the floor, not punching! You probably run with scissors, too.

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

Brilliantly, I had already torn the top open, so dropping it from a height would've scattered ice all over the floor. (And it did, when we resorted to that.)

And not only do I not run with scissors, I hold them point down, so that if I do slip and fall, they're less likely to jab me. (monshu thinks this makes me look like a spree killer, however.)

[mollpeartree.livejournal.com]

Ah, that makes sense. Your other non-hand-breaking option would have been to assault it mercilessly with a meat cleaver in the kitchen sink, but sometimes there is all kinds of stuff piled up in there already at parties.

I am relieved to hear of your scissors safety!