Drunken Dinner

Dear Diary,

After not smoking anything for an æon, I wanted a cigarette. Caving-in, I headed for the shops. Upon arrival I was pleased to discover a new brand of organic tobacco. Alas, t'was my students' birthday party. As soon as I had made myself comfortable, I clumsily knocked over a full glass of vino russo into my bolognaise. Nasty.

Snail-side, once upon a time, I discovered while working on l'vendange [grape harvest] that a drop of vin rouge in the soup, gives a nice tangy bite to an otherwise bland-ish starter. It's not to everybody's taste, but I do like a drop of red in my soup ever since. Aye. Or should I say oui or "si".

So, after the dinner fiasco, a birthday sing-song was in order, and the birthday girl wasn't game, despite the new guitar pressie (a quite nice left handed semi-acoustic, steel-string, groovy). Anyway, I sat with her mother and the keyboard player, and we sang Bing Crosby numbers, the Andrews sisters, and the like. I tried to tear myself away for the assignment.

I managed to snatch a moment at the terminal, in between singing "Man of Constant Sorrow" and "Don't Fence Me In". On the Flex.

Who can compare to Maxy? My twin. That's who. I love you bro'.

Maximus Fleximus.