Sunday Bloody Sunday

Make it spicy.

My liver has finally recovered from the alcohol-soaked celebration known as Easter. I know. I know. One does not typically think of Easter as a holiday associated with binge drinking. Perhaps New Year's Eve. Or St. Patrick's Day. As a drinking holiday, Easter falls to the rear of the pack, back there with Mother's Day (unless your mother is like mine - just kidding) or Arbor Day.

But this particular Easter weekend was particularly indulgent. One of my honeys from Nashville visited on Thursday evening. HotAss stopped by. Between the three of us, we drank two bottles of red and a bottle of white.

Friday night, I was safe til HotAss and Tman stopped by. Add another bottle of red to the mix.

Saturday, HotAss and the godfather stopped by. Gin & tonics. Which flowed throughout the afternoon and into the evening.

Easter Sunday, I enjoyed my first bloody mary ever at brunch. It was followed by my second, my third and my fourth. Followed by a second Easter gathering, and a glass of red. Followed by sacking out on the sofa at HotAss's and polishing off two half-bottles of red there. And then going over to my place to finish a half-bottle there. And then we invited the Dynamic Duo over for Desperate Housewives (and reminded them to bring a bottle or two).

I see a pattern with HotAss dropping by.

In my alcohol-induced haze, I decided that I haven't been very forthcoming in my blog. I rattle on about HotAss (he's the best friend a person could have and I'm lucky to know him). I wax poetic about the good ol' days. But I have been very careful not to reveal much of myself, and that really was the point of this blog. As Ethan says, "self-prescribed therapy sessions."

So I'm going to make an effort for this to be a little more insightful. But that's kinda hard. I can't talk about people I know because I've given them all this address... Hmm...