The rhyming attack continues/Melting Pot
The rhymes attacked again after my last entry:
Me: Bluejays were attacking you?
R: two by two, hands of blue
R: see I can rhyme too
Me: Joss Whedon - though I love him too
Me: I must go to the loo.
R: poo
Me: No, not true
Me: I had another use for the loo
Me: (incidentally I love this)
R: I'm sure you do!
R: freakazoo
Me: Seriously -- tonight I am having fondue.
Me: Melting Pot. I won't wear a mumuu.
R: I'm so envious of you!
************************************
Never let it be said that I am not willing to commit great sacrifices in the name of Breast Cancer Awareness, even if said Breast Cancer Awareness requires - requires! -- me to go to the Melting Pot and indulge in cheeses and chocolates and little fruity cocktail things and jewelry shopping. (The jewelry shopping was an unexpected addition -- as part of the event a couple of vendors had shown up hawking jewelry.) In a decided plus, I was the only non-Hindu in my group, which meant that I got to eat all the steak. (They ate all the shrimp. All religious differences should be solved this way.) The music for the event was different than the Melting Pot's usual attempt at quiet romance, and a little disorienting: the disc jockey, who seemed to be quite, quite happy, in an amplified sort of sense, kept leaping between Pink Floyd, Johnny Cash, and Celine Dion. These are not precisely tastes that go together. Luckily, the chocolate more than made up for this. And since only two of us had done the Melting pot before, things dropped everywhere, which added to the hilarity.
Off to meet one of my fellow sacrificers for Starbucks, since we unintentionally (really, really) stayed up way too late, and possibly -- just possibly -- might have indulged a bit too much, leaving us unable to work, or, in my case, rhyme, today, which could be slightly problematic.
Me: Bluejays were attacking you?
R: two by two, hands of blue
R: see I can rhyme too
Me: Joss Whedon - though I love him too
Me: I must go to the loo.
R: poo
Me: No, not true
Me: I had another use for the loo
Me: (incidentally I love this)
R: I'm sure you do!
R: freakazoo
Me: Seriously -- tonight I am having fondue.
Me: Melting Pot. I won't wear a mumuu.
R: I'm so envious of you!
************************************
Never let it be said that I am not willing to commit great sacrifices in the name of Breast Cancer Awareness, even if said Breast Cancer Awareness requires - requires! -- me to go to the Melting Pot and indulge in cheeses and chocolates and little fruity cocktail things and jewelry shopping. (The jewelry shopping was an unexpected addition -- as part of the event a couple of vendors had shown up hawking jewelry.) In a decided plus, I was the only non-Hindu in my group, which meant that I got to eat all the steak. (They ate all the shrimp. All religious differences should be solved this way.) The music for the event was different than the Melting Pot's usual attempt at quiet romance, and a little disorienting: the disc jockey, who seemed to be quite, quite happy, in an amplified sort of sense, kept leaping between Pink Floyd, Johnny Cash, and Celine Dion. These are not precisely tastes that go together. Luckily, the chocolate more than made up for this. And since only two of us had done the Melting pot before, things dropped everywhere, which added to the hilarity.
Off to meet one of my fellow sacrificers for Starbucks, since we unintentionally (really, really) stayed up way too late, and possibly -- just possibly -- might have indulged a bit too much, leaving us unable to work, or, in my case, rhyme, today, which could be slightly problematic.