So. Um. Ok then.

So this has been a very interesting weekend, and it's only Sunday morning, I can't imagine what the rest of the day holds in store, (especially considering we're celebrating the Incomprable C's birthday this evening) it could very well kill me...

So Friday, G. Monkey and I hung out. And... wow. This was not a "Fun drinky night" it was a "Severe emotional distress" drinking kind of night. And if it weren't for the fact that her revolting, child-molesting, asshole of a stepfather has cancer, and will probably die a slow (not nearly painful enough) death, I'd go down there and kill him myself*. I knew a lot of things already, but I had no idea about a lot of others. And just... wow.

And we caught up with Stoltz-a-ma-fus. Who gave me the low-down on the fundraiser that Bosslady had. That noise you heard was probably my evil guffawing. Not only did half the people of the last time show up, but people STOLE auction items. That Bosslady had to pay for. STOLE. I mean, 1. people who steal charity auction items should be beaten severely about the face and shoulders. But 2. That's really damned funny. Most of the money raised was negated by outlays (because she had to do everything expensively- Ha!) and they probably just about broke even. (This is what you get for not doing direct mail, having a shitty committee, and pissing off every person who works for/with you. Heh. Have a nice day.)

Apparently she also posed naked for some sculptor, and now her "perky" butt is the figurehead on some hot-rod. (Yes, I did just throw up a little in my mouth. Again. When I wrote that.)

And then there was yesterday, involving a trip to Reading (which automatically includes multiple opportunities-which we too- to get lost. Repeatedly) to pick up P's mixer, helping his ma with the christmas decorations, and whipping up some chai creme brulee. Yes, it was even better than it sounds.

Oh, and he also mock propsed with his EX FIANCEES RING** (deep breath C, he was kidding- after I "sucked up by doing his mom's dishes" he figured "next I'd ask his mom if I could marry him" so he'd "beat me to the punch." Again. KIDDING.) And it was? Funny. One knee, the whole nine yards. (Followed with "well, I doubt you'd want her ring anyway", "Correct, I'd like my grandmother's ring.") Heh. I think we're making angel food cake today, and then, of course, I'm going out to drink my face off*** with the Incomprable C, Ferret Trimmin' Girl, The Lovely Laura, and a whole host of other GigantoMegaHospital employees... Woot!


*Her mother too, for other assorted reasons, but I think I'd rather see her live, preferably guilt wracked (unlikely), and miserable (likely, but not for the right reasons).

** Yeah, I didn't really know that either, that his flaming bitchbag of an ex was actually an ex-fiancee, something was mentioned in passing, but it didn't register till I saw the ring. Thank Elvis he never got entangled with that one any further than cohabitating... yikes.

*** By "drinking my face off" I mean one nice vodka & cran & buying C drinks. I do, after all, have to go to work tomorrow.