Dearest otterminions, I can't bring myself to tell you the entire story of my debauched New Year. It would only traumatise you (one thing I will point out is that I posted the video for Lionel Richie's 'All Night Long' on the Sarahnator's Facebook page, and wrote underneath "this is how we're going to party". Not only did we in fact party all night long, but that song played in the bar we chose. It was fate. And Lionel Richie). Instead, I shall relate the tale of dinner, before the evening drinking had begun (okay fine, the drinking had begun. Just shh and let me tell the story).
Me: Where is the cublet? I'm starving!
Sarahnator: She's on her way.
Me: I'm going to text her to tell her how slow she is. Maybe something about her mother...being less than speedy...
There was a brief pause as we all thought about this.
Me: Suggestions are welcome.
Wetsoks: How about "yo momma is so slow I'll still be doing her next year"?
Sarahnator: I'm not sure that will make Tanyakit get here any faster.
Me: (draping myself pathetically over the table) The humour will give her wings. Like Red Bull. I'm wasting away here. I want food in my mouth now. Right now.
Wetsoks: You don't want much, do you?
Me: No. Just the moon. On a stick.
Sarahnator: You want what?!
Me: Um... the moon on a stick?
Sarahnator: That makes more sense. I misheard the first time - I thought you said "womb on a stick".
Me: Hey, I know this place is Mexican but let's not get all black-market-stereotypey. Did you think I was going to say "Yes, can I please have a burrito, with chicken, black beans... uh huh... yes and I'd also like to have one womb on a stick please? Thank you."
Sarahnator: I never quite know with you.
Me: I shall take that as a compliment.
Sarahnator: It's not.
Me: You're welcome.