Invited Jorge over for lunch yesterday. He was late, having stood outside the gate for 45 minutes chatting up the locals and having his fucking ring kissed. I got him back by eating all the shrimp poppers off the hors d’œuvre tray, which gave me gas so bad it would have gagged a skunk in heat.
Anyhow, things were fine once he finally got here. We chatted about what he should wear for Holy Week services, pissed ouselves over that hysterical photo of Deacon Albani at last week’s seminary Spring Fling, and discussed whether he should keep his personal Facebook page (I didn’t think any harm would come of it, but urged him to change his status back to ‘single’). He did get pretty testy when I suggested he go easy on the Old Spice (he practically bathes in that shit), then I hit the roof when he asked me to kiss his ring (I told him I’d rather eat rotten cabbage outta my own ass). But the sisters calmed things down with a few rounds of chilled Jagermeister, and off he went to his next photo opp. Which was fine with me, because Breaking Dawn just arrived from Netflix and I wanted to see what happened with Jacob (he is soooo freaking hot!).