Clad in pj's I entered the living room and asked them how it went. The ball I didn't attend, for the first time in four years was fantastic apparently - minus the theft of some contraband booze.
The pictures show great amounts of cleavage and dangerously white ensembles (the enemy red wine must spoil). I think they had great times and I'm glad. The best moral of the story perhaps is that if you're itchin' to "bring home the bacon" (or more accurately the 'sausage'), then you shouldn't make a remarkably perfect, sweet, gay man in pink your date. Ces't la vie.
One sweet roomate brought back favors. "Here... this one's broken". 800 straw, foil, and plastic roses were created for the evening and the roomates of 16-A Lodge get to prosper from the fruits of their labour. Elaborately wrapped Hershey's Kisses for all, er, I mean for me. They're already gone.
Anyone want the wrapper?
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1 comment:
Why didn't you go, you chud-monkey? You love that Charity shit!
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