This weekend, I discovered I must be growing up. Annie had invited Michelle and I over for a barbeque, and for once I only brought a small smattering of alcohol. The last time I’d visited her house, a very cruel Jac placed a Daddy Long Legs in a tasty cheesecake, offered me a slice, and giggled enormously as the bloody thing rolled around in my very drunken mouth, legs and all.
Still, last Saturday was a very different affair, and the small group of us – Elli, Annie, Annie’s boyfriend, Michelle and I – managed to have an enormous amount of fun, without the need for carnage and debauchery at any stage.
I still got outrageously drunk, but it’s a start.
DLGs are not Pawsynus
which, loosely translated, means ‘Daddy Long Legs aren’t poisonous’.