Now is an appropriate time to serve up those cocktails – Late. Like some of the people we’re reminded of. I was going to serve everyone with Midnight Mementos, but frankly they look/sound bloody awful.
So instead, Karen’s drinking a G&T – well, a very large G with the T contained in a different bottle – which is definitely needed after a day with SouthWest Trains. Thankfully, Pigwotflies is helping to get rid of the tonic, although she’s wasting vodka on it. That’s why she’s only getting crappy bar-brand Smirnoff to mix into the tonic. Although it does make the tonic taste (slightly) better.
Asta is getting smashed on Blackberrys (which is infinitely better than a smashed Blackberry) which sounds like a damn good plan.
Lori is braving a snowball, because she’s too much of a lightweight to bother with the bottle of Martindonnay that her other gran drank on occasion. Sounds like rocket-fuel to me, but what would I know?
Gammidgy is dealing with a bundle of meeting numpties, and thus needs to drink cider in order to forget the trauma. It’s a lot cheaper (and easier) than professional psychotherapy. In this case, I think the cheaper and more plentiful it is, the better.
Finally, Pockless is drinking one of Bumpy’s whiskeys (and I’m neither asking, nor making something of it) and Graybo is being brave and drinking whatever I pour. This may be the death of him, but he’s handling it manfully so far. The Kamikazes are going to his head, but we’ll get there.
Rather appropriately, I was given a bottle of my Great Aunt’s champagne cognac today. I give you all good health!