| Wednesday, January 23, 2002 |
 | Ah, yes. The excuse. The excuse was that a) I was knackered, b) I was meant to be entertaining (well, I'm always meant to be entertaining, but that's not quite the point) and I had to meet some people for a drink. Well, I didn't have to, but it seemed quite a useful and interesting thing to do. Especially as also present was somebody I had not seen for some years, having parted on not exactly the best of terms.
And it was...all right. Really very pleasant, in fact. In many ways not at all just like old times, which I think is for the best. Since that may well have made me hit a cat. With a baseball bat. I play primarily to lose.
On a tangent, what do you have planned for Valentine's. I am still quietly giggling over the weblogger who proposed a blogmeet on February the 14th, in true "Holy shit, guys! We just played Dungeons and Dragons throughout our entire High School Prom!" style. Bless.
I was pondering investing in some "Bittersweets", but their curious similarity to a sweet first mooted on BreakupGirl.com (life sucks when Oprah Winfrey has eaten your soul) just makes me think of decay.
And, since a boiling water/human flesh buddy-movie moment has left me in no mood to raise my body temperature yet further, it's time to get all Bosola on this, the most discriminatory of Saint's Days.
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