Dunc already mentioned my Thursday night, which involved me getting just a little drunk. Just a little, of course.
Ok, so I got hammered like that stupid little nail that just won’t go in properly. Anyway, I felt that I would write a two-stanza haiku for filk night to commemorate it, especially in light of the fact that everyone was very good about not rubbing my idiocy in my face. So here it is:
Laying on the tile,
I hope no one lights a match;
Nevermind, it’s cold.
Here I go again,
Meeting with my new master.
Hail, porcelain god!
Count, em, baby. And PG thinks I don’t have any skills…
We didn’t rub it in your face? From what I heard, you got at least 20 lectures from people.
You are never living that down! (And never doing it again, I’m sure.)