T-minus 25 hours until I pick up this guy at the airport...

…and the following ensues: screwdrivers and Mickey D’s for breakfast, Four Christmases with [Kid Sister], umpteen outfit changes before settling on the same jeans/tall boot combo I’ve worn on Thanksgiving Eve (aka Judgment Day) for the past three years, preparty at Casa Karla, multi-olive martinis at Club 609 before heading to Champs for “Cary Randolph Suicide Watch” (the biggest high school reunion this side of Romy and Michele), redemption dance-off on the skank banquet floor next door, and an early morning, pre-turkey-basting ten-miler with CLS, during which I wager I puke at least twice and no more than four times.  Anyone care to start a pool?

1. inparentheses reblogged this from caryrandolph and added:

   or to not go to Champs, that is...question. I’m leaning toward not although I’ll probably...

2. caryrandolph liked this
3. rtc reblogged this from caryrandolph and added:

   trip is probably 7…that’s

4. caryrandolph posted this