The day isn't beautiful, in and of itself, but I'm working on it. My Q is 29 today, after all, (and hath been with me-- lan sakes, a decade? Woosh.) a natal day he shares with the divine Pierce Brosnan and Miss Janet Jackson.

Pierce, i think, is #1 to ever play Mr. Stephen Quinn in a movie, had I my way.

But today it is /Q's/ way. And The Shit With The Bank is now A-okay, so I think i shall be compelled to make him a birthday dinner. Something with expensive mushrooms and meat in it. So I am Grocery-Store bound anon.

But i hope Fox and Henry aren't working tonight, cause it'd be so sad to eat alone. Well, not exactly alone... last year, on this day, Q, Michael and I went and sat under a tree with a carton of Vienetta, a bottle of pepsi and one of root beer, and sang. He got a copy of Machiavelli's "The Prince" Aussi... Ach, we must get His Gift too.

The Fox's b-day is 2 days from now. So her gift must also be found. Heh heh...

Oh... a very nice fellow said I looked like Halle Berry today. Score two for her. She's catching up with ya, JTT.

Yes, that's right-- the celebrity i get mistook for most often is Jonothan Tyler Thomas.

Kill me now, please.

*grins*

I don't work till 6 tomorrow. You know, this day feels lovlier and lovlier...

"En Garde!" Says D'Artagnan. I think he might be right.

But we might want to skip the rapiers, sil te plait.

It's not the done thing, anymore.

<<agé chose>>

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