On New Year's Day, we had a lovely breakfast which, for me at least, consisted mostly of mimosas. Actually, for me it was all mimosas, but let's keep that between ourselves, shall we?
Wait 'til you see who showed up later.
The ever-polite Gerald. He tweets with a British accent. Scouts honor.
The painfully-shy Vincent. Vince, turn around. Please? (He hates it when we call him Vince).
The impetuous and daring Chet.
Chet's best friends sisters cousin's ex. I forget his name.
Sneaky Pete. (I 've NEVER trusted this guy. He thinks he's all that and a bag of chips. And he's got a dishonest streak.)
This is Clarence. Always a pleasure to have him at every gathering. He just has that certain bonhomie about him that keeps everyone's spirits lifted, you know.
And finally, Gerald. Word on the street is that he used to work as a spy for the British government. Could be true. Dunno, though. He's very stealthy.
Well, this is what happens when all you've had for breakfast is a pitcher full of mimosas. And I refuse to make any apologies for it.
Until tomorrow, my friends . . .