Monday, 6 August 2012


The fact that our faces are blurry tells you a lot about 
the state of the photographer's equilibrium at this point.

I mentioned yesterday that there are some significant differences between black parties and white parties. And then totally by coincidence, I get invited to a black party. That was last night. I'm not quite sober yet, in fact it's 5 a.m. and I am still there. This is all kinds of wrong but would you please QUIT YELLING because I am aware that this is all kinds of wrong, and also, my head hurts.
So anyway. Here is what I did this weekend. I'm not bragging but I will say this would have killed most strong men.

Friday: Caribana preparations (this was well covered off in posts Countdown through Caribana!)
Saturday: Caribana. All day and into the night. We need a bigger word for bacchanal. 
Would you care for some shrimp, stewed rice, 
macaroni pie, jerk chicken and ribs? 
No? That's ok, there's plenty of other stuff.
Sunday: Surprise birthday party for one of the prettiest and sweetest ladies in Brampton. Food and fellowship and music a go-go. Still there as I write this. 
Menu: Shrimp in coconut curry sauce. Jerk chicken. Rice. Sweet potato. Fried chicken. BBQ ribs. Salad. Asian noodle salad. Perogies. Jerk chicken. (I said that already? Feck. I don't know...I'm tipsy, gimme a break.)
Monday: I'll let you know when I wake up, but I don't expect much will happen today other than: 
Fed cats. 
Turned up AC. 
Made tea. 
Closed blinds really really tight.
Promised self to remember never to do THAT again.
That, my friends, is what you call a good party. In any colour.