I reckon the cat is out of the bag. I went to one of my commenter’s for Christmas. I am sorry to those of you whose offers I declined. I am genetically predisposed on my Father’s side to LOVE SC in general(I still hate the fucking Gamecocks) and Charleston in particular. Also she is vet and let me bring my dog.
I woke up drink today and though continuing to drink might be fun. I was right. I think also that I may be entering the Meredith Baxter Birney stage of my life.
I have little recollection of last night but there is wine all over my shirt and I slept in the Lesbian part of the best house ever erected. It is a hand made log cabin. The owner is my commenter’s long time boy friend. He is the most perfect man ever created. HE’S A FIREMAN!! And everything you would expect from the Fireman’s calendar. He would be a summer month because he is MUY CALIENTE! Docwall is WAY hotter than me so I have no chance at stealing him away. He is all macho and Jesse James like with a woodworking COMPLEX where he make beautiful stuff. AND AND AND with fugly fat chicks drop by and get all sorts of wasted at his place, he is very kind and tolerant. And he has the best collection of Pajama pants in the world. He is perfect. Like the perfect man. I love him in a way far beyond sexual. I mean he should be the fucking Pope or something.
Oh an Docwall is all sorts of swell too. She left me at her FIREMAN’S house last night! Mostly because I am too fat for even the FIREMAN to put me in the car. And she has stocked her house where I am now with the tiny little co-colas in bottles and me and Banjo are hanging out outside by her pool.
So Essentially this blog is to say, I have NO recollection at ALL of RHOA last night. And I am never coming home.
That is all. I am going to try to WARSH the moonshine (I am not making this up, we drank MOONSHINE last night!!!) And Merlot off of me and go shopping in downtown Charleston now. Unless I go back to bed.
Or maybe I will just drink more.