joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
ben comes in just as i begin to cackle manically, watching the pictures flash across the screen in front of me. after brief greetings, he sits down and i tell him he's about to witness the worst ten minutes of television history. and then, as an afterthought, i tell him t-minus seven minutues until mulder and scully start sucking face.
he pours a shot of russian prince vodka, slams it back and we both cackle.
james eventually joins us, drinking whiskey. merlot slides precariously around in my mug, and by the time we leave for the pacific, everything has soft edges to it. i end up having chocolate milk spashed across my legs and hot sauce stuck in my hair when we leave.
ben tells me the next morning that he yakked.
i've decided that merlot and whiskey-although quite tasty by themselves- may not be the way to go.
maybe next friday i'll just stick to whiskey.