[It's pride month!]

I just heard the sound of streaming liquid behind me. The sound was ever so gentle, like that of a peaceful brook.

It was the sound of Irby's urine, gently rolling onto my low-carb recipe book, new Twiggy-esque (the 60's model, not pseudo-musician) dress, and carpet.

Let's pretend for the next 15 seconds that I drink alcoholic beverages. This would be a good time for me to raise my hand elegantly, snap my fingers and command in Tallulah Bankhead's voice: "Darling, fetch me a Manhattan with two cherries and rocks on the side. Quickly, Darling."

Lovely.

Update- 12:31 AM: I just found a rediculous amount of shit on the floor. It wasn't mine.

Update- 12:39 AM: I spelled "ridiculous" wrong. What the hell is wrong with me?