Sunday, July 25, 2004

Here's some non-celeb news you can't use: Last night your humble Felt Up Blogette spent some quality time with some of her loyal Felt Up readers, ie, her friends. (OK, I have to drop the third person thing, it plum tuckers me out.) We were celebrating the dual birthdays of Steve. M. and Gil C., who are both spring chickens in the prime of life and not at all middle-aged. (One is a year older than me, one a 1/2 year younger). They sucked down some Dr. Skulls (a delightful smoothie-with-booze available only, to my knowledge, at Tien Hong on Burnet Rd.--HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!). Also on hand were TWO Flaming Volcanoes, with Pee-Wee Herman-style ridiculously long straws. What with the words "Dr. Skull" and "Flaming Volcano" being tossed around (not to mention copious amounts of rum), many in our group quickly reverted to their inner second-grader and/or Redd Foxx and started working very blue, and very, very silly. Lots of "suck down that hot magma"-type material. Always a hit! It was like the Algonquin Round Table, except without the uh, you know, witty repartee. The table WAS round, though. Our waiter was patient, helpful, and patently adorable. Kudos, Tien Hong, for another swell evening in A-Town!

Then it was on to the stately home of Steve M. and Michele S., where we downed birthday tequila, beers, and Michele S.' ingenious and highly addictive margaritas, while slouched around in comfy chairs, opium-den-style. I had a granny blanket around me. Tanya B. snoozed on the air mattress with Olive M.-S., the wire-fox terrier that has captured a weary nation's heart. This is what happens when people in their mid-thirties start drinking Dr. Skulls at 8pm. It wasn't pretty, but it was nice to be around my Chinese-food-engorged, drunken pals. Happy Birthday, sweet princes!

Tomorrow it's back to the celeb trenches!

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