Only through the magic of Facebook:
Today my good friend Ham invited a few of us to his house for "a night of snacks, beer, games (for prizes) and movies (to be determined) on Valentine's Day for the single folks."
Having plans that recently fell through that evening (Andrew Bird, WHY won't you call me back?), I immediately accepted, responding, "Well. I certainly can't deny beer. But I'm only coming if you plan on doing a Wild Turkey shot with me, Ham. Consider it a love letter from cupid himself."
Mike Posey, ever the acid-tongued sassafras, responded just as quickly, "Why am I not surprised that Balls [it's a nickname. YES, it is the brainchild of Mikey P. YES, I hate it. NO, I can't do anything about it. ] is the first one one here to say she's attending..."
Oh, game on. I responded thusly: "Hey, speak for yourself, Poser. You're the one living in eternal bachelorhood with a man who still does your laundry for you."
I'll take that whiskey straight up, dear.
**Update** The retort, delivered with vitriolic annoyance: "Hey Debbie D-Bag, at least I DID something about being single. Post that on your blog and smoke it. Then fix me a hot toddy, beezo."