The naming day was a big deal, for Jay, all of the family were there, from all bogun sides, as well. Queens with dogs and tweaked lesbians, on there way home back to sanity, after a night out. All were represented. I had no idea who most of them were. Some of them were frightening.
It had a celebrant and readings and blessings and eulogies and goodness knows what else. Jesus! Really? Luke, and I, were lucky enough to get there for the final claps followed by a lovely rendition of happy birthday, followed by food, so you can understand how pleased I was with that.
There was jelly slice and chocolate crackles and honey drops and fairy bread. Yum! Yum! Yum! I made a pig of myself, you can be sure of that.
Then we sat around in the gorgeous sunshine (in the mosquito ridden) confines of the beautiful St Kilda gardens and chatted until it was time to retire home for a few j's and some pizza.
Luke and I were late because of guests this morning.
The wedding was for country folk and apart from Limp Bizquet at breakfast this morning and more food squashed into the floor than I've ever seen before, they were okay, I guess. One of the guests got Luke to arch up, towards the, shall we say, more emotional end of the night, which is not a feat often performed. Luke never loses his cool. So I guess they'd get no gold elephant seal, even if the broyde did say that we maoide all her fantasies com true.
Ab and I entertained ourselves by slashing the guests from time to time. And by saying naughty things. The woofers laughed. The guests mostly didn't get it.
The two young, Dutch, blonde woofers are hot. There were a couple of smashed young gals at the wedding, who would have given it up to both of them, but in true young straight boy style, they both got drunk and collapsed into bed alone.
Now, I'm polishing off the last j and I'm going to bed.
Lovely!
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