The engagement party was this weekend. The Ness parents, the Ness drinking companions, the Paciello whole family, the Paciello work friends, all together in one basement. From pigs-in-blankets to the sternos of food to the cake to the whiskeyed coffee: the event was spot on. Cliques merged, booze flowed, mad cackling ensued.
The fiancée and I spent Sunday, the day after, doing jack. Luckily there are Christmas books to read and DVDs to digest. Disc One of Tenacious D is like watching Tom and Jerry: I know what’s gonna to happen, and yet I chortle. Oh how I enjoy a well crafted fusillade of F-bombs. Of which there are so far none in P.W. Singer's Corporate Warriors, but it still seems to be a hell of a book thus far.
The holidays are behind me, and I failed to ever shoehorn that one Christmasy Pogues lyric into the blog. But I see some other blogsack did did. Gads, the bloggers.
Until I figure out which country I'm going to next and book my flight, I shall be enjoying nights out with the cracked out hiptards of Manhattan. Hopefully, stories to come.
Special shoutout to commenter "Balls" of a few days ago for warning me about potential weaselly DJs. Spending way too much time on this list of music to brook interference from some cd-slinging mook. Balls up, mooks down while you motherbumpers bounce to this.
