Yesterday was awesome. I ate too much. Laughed too hard. And got home late. But let’s start at the beginning, shall we?
A couple of my friends arranged a dinner party last night. Guests were asked to bring along a dish. And by dish, I don’t mean actual plates. Nor do I mean a sexy person, although I do think that this option should be explored. I mean that we were all asked to bring along a meal or dessert. More than ten people were invited. You do the maths. There were red velvet cup cakes, two different types of curry, two types of pie, quiche, chocolate, salad etc. At the end of the evening I could be found rubbing my stomach and saying, “I think I should have stopped eating 30 minutes ago.”
Of course, it wasn’t just the food that made last night a success. There was a quick game of 30 seconds, where I learnt that the Boer War wasn’t about the whites fighting the blacks. My team was unjustly labeled as the spawn of Satan. And Cazz apparently has trouble with the alphabet, believing that “K” comes after “L”.
Oh and sometime during the evening the phrase “anal mouth” was uttered. Yeah, I can see that one’s going to require some explanation.
It all started innocently enough, as most things do, with Dizzy* talking about farting competitions. Just, you know, everyday polite conversation. And this prompted the start of a conversation revolving around gurus, who instruct followers to suck up air through their “anal mouths”. Juan, “It’s known as analation”.
These are my friends. And I honestly won’t trade them for all the Jimmy Choos in the world.