Had drinks and snacks and drinks and drinks
(in that order)
with the girls last night for a
belated birthday celebration.

Lady Fairchilde,
Robi,
M'Licious, and
Trampy.

A motley crew, to say the least.

One Guinness was all I ordered.
One.

But then...

Lady Fairchilde decided she didn't like Guinness
and pushed her pint over to me.
sigh
There's no accounting for taste.

And M'Licious orders a round of
Swedish Berry shooters.

Deeeeeeeee-Lish!
It was like Kool-Aid for grownups.

Not the wisest choice on a school night,
but I had a great time
and for a drinking light-weight,
I was none the worse for wear this morning.

Which probably isn't a good thing.
It sends the wrong message.
The message should be:

yurrr no 20 inee moorrre, hen.
ye canny be doin' this ta yurrrrself.

Instead, the message is:

ack, hen! trrreeee? Ohneee trrreeee?
ya kin do bettah 'n dat!

Since the group agreed that
this should be a monthly
*ahem*
"meeting"
it may be difficult to ignore the voices that cheer me on.

Even if they're speaking with a drunken Scottish slur.