If My Drunken Blogging Didn’t Amuse Me So, I’d Go Delete that Post

So, yes, the Recovering Baptist had her birthday party last night and it was fabulous good fun.  Except for the bruise and except for the fact that I have no idea what kind of point I was trying to make last night, but it was an enthusiastic one.

I did a birthday Tarot reading for the Recovering Baptist, which was very cool, because everyone at the party gathered around and it was loud and raucous and the energy was fun and loving and nice.  I usually read one on one or with a very small audience who’s sitting quietly so that the right mood is maintained–that right mood being one of reverence and awe (kind of). 

But I liked doing it this way, too, with no one taking it very seriously, but everyone chiming in or poking fun or shouting "That’s right" when it needed to be shouted.

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I Learn The Hard Way So That You Don’t Have To

If you pick a fight with a large iron chandelier–for whatever reason, I’m in no position to judge–you will lose.

You will, however, also end up with a cool bruise that stretches across the first three knuckles of your right hand and on up your ring finger.

That is all.

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Happy Birthday Recovering Baptist!

I’ll lick chocolate cake off your tits any time!

Woo hoo!

fuck.

yeah.

Who let me drive home?  My left eye hates air conditioning!  You try to get around the block with a car that doesn’t like air conditioning.  I tell you.  It’s not easy.

Happy b irthday, still.  You crazy woman.