NYE, 2007

The evening went a little something like this...

WEE: "It's NYE."

STASH SISTA: "I know. Fu*k. What are you wearing?"

WEE: "Pajamas."

STASH SISTA: "Word."

(At this point in the evening I make haste to SS's pad and we choose PJ's and stashes. We then carpool (we are so green!) to our destination, a Bird house/dinner/pj/boardgame extravaganza of epic proportions)





SUN: "God I love flannel."

GIRL SUN: "You should have seen him at Target. Tragic really."

SUN: "Have a drink crabs."



WEE: "Nice tunes. When do we eat?"

(At which point everyone gives me the eye. I should know better by now. It's a Bird dinner party.)

WEE: "Pass me a cocktail. My stash itches."



And so the drinking and debauchery began in earnest, as the smells of wondrous Bird food wafted about. It was quite simply torture.



DR. 90210: "Hey! It's New, 10, 9, 8..."

ALL: "7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, Happy New Year!!!"

(Much hugging, smooching and pinching ensued. Plus more cocktails.)





BIRD: "Sure you know how to carve a chicken?"

DAMNIT: "Bird..."

BIRD: "I mean, I slaved over those. Salted, rubbed, basted-"

DAMNIT: "Get out."



The King and his Queen patiently waiting to be served.





GIRL SUN: "My god. This. Is. Amazing."

ALL: "Thank you Bird!!!"





DAMNIT: "A photo? For my public? Bien sur!"



* Happy 2008!