High society

In my living room, I'm basking in the aftertaste of Ketel One vodka and McDonald's buffalo sauce as I sit in my finest (read: only) suit watching the tail end of Alias.

What could possibily lead up to this? How about a holiday party at Barmakian Jewelers, where I'm apparently a VIP (sure, I spent more money there last year than Santa Claus spent at FAO Schwartz, but I was still surprised to get three VIP invitations)? The little lady and I got a little taste of high society, Framingham-style, sipping martinis and tasting delicious (read: free) hors d'ouevres while passing by jewelry in mock interest and scantilly clad models in mock disinterest. On the way home, we swung by McDonald's for a Big Mac and some Chicken Selects, the perfect nightcap with a little Spicy Buffalo.

How could the night get better than free martinis and hors d'ouevres? Try a shot of codeine-laced Robitussin, my goodie bag from yesterday's trip to Longwood, where I was diagnosed with bronchitis and pharyngitis, both viral and uncurable. Everything's coming up Brain.