(this is annie)

I wrote this back in September, but had been too busy to post it. From the 'Better Late Than Never' Files:

Last week, I had a Buffy party. I had about fifteen people over for snacks, television and chats. All was going well. I was a shining example of how to entertain, until (and there's always an until, isn't there?) around eight-thirty. At one point I realized that somebody smelled like poop! Literally. I mean, the foul fragrance was unbearable. You couldn't inhale without receiving a cruel whiff. I casually walked around the party, trying to find the Poop Bandit. No luck. It was a surprise to look down and find a big stinky smear on my shirt. Ah yes, when I picked my cat up to show off his cuteness, my little Mikan had left me a souvenir from the litter box. I'd been shit-shirted! I quickly dashed to the bathroom, only to discover that his fecal offering had wickedly befouled the air there. Ever the quick thinker, I spritzed some perfume to cover the offending stench. In my haste, I wound up spraying myself. The grace and poise just never stops, folks. It never stops.

Labels: buffy