We party very hearty on a Saturday night. My sister looks cute in her braces and boots. It’s seven o’clock and I want to rock. I’m a juvenile product of the working class.

We joined Dennis, Maria, Joe and Carol for a party at Matt and Ginger’s last night. We enjoyed a very good dinner, though I can’t say all of who brought what. Matt cooked up the tacos, and I had a couple of those, so I know where the proper kudos go in that case. Otherwise, the salad, the pasta salad, and so forth…I dunno. Good stuff, and not my doing. (We brought Coke and ice cream.) Thanks to the appropriate folks, though.

The group held interesting discussions and played several rounds of guys v. gals Catch Phrase. Team Testosterone did very will except for one unfortunate game where we couldn’t come up with the word “minister.” Painful loss, that. At least this time I didn’t suffer my usual ignominy of getting caught repeatedly holding the potato. I’ve been the goat way too many times. I deserved some good luck and last night was happy to get it.

Thanks to everybody for the great time.