Party Postmortem

(not my actual kitchen but a reasonable facsimile)

I wasn't going to post again today but after Beth read the following email I sent regarding Saturday's party and threatened, "if you don't post this, i will fucking kill you. that is hysterical," I've decided I fear for my life. Beth is not one to make empty threats.

And so:

Answers to Frequently Asked Questions relating to Saturday evening's throw-down:

• Yes, my roommate is single.
• No, that wineglass was not a family heirloom.
• No, my bedsheets are not satin.
• Yes, you were dancing, Steve. And quite enthusiastically from what I hear.
• Yes, my coffee table managed to sustain further damage.
• No, it was not related to any kind of anatomically shaped cake.
• No, there is no more sangria.
• Yes, there is some Advil.
• No, no one sullied my couch. They all made it to the bathroom.
• Yes, there are two Amys. With and without nuts.
• Yes, you're all insane.
• Yes, we talked about you all at breakfast on Sunday. And we made up stories too. How could you, Sam?
• Yes, there will be more parties.

Thanks to all of you guys for coming out on Saturday - and for those of you I saw Friday night as well. You're all of a good sort. But it's bibs and sippy cups for you lot next time.