It was another rip roaring New Year's eve at chez Bard last night. I'm happy to report that I was surrounded by beautiful men toasting to fresh new dreams for the coming year. As seems so often to happen on this night of nights, copious quantities of alcohol were consumed. Things may have been said that, in the light of day, might be regretted. Not everyone went home with the same partner he came with. All is fair on New Year's Eve, I say.
New Year's Day, however, is another matter. This place looks like a bomb went off. Trash, bottles, streamers in every corner. How the hell did my big, cushy living room chair turn up upside down (and why!)? Everything in the kitchen is coated in flour (yes, I checked, it's just flour). Shit, once again I'm spending the dawn of the new year putting the house back in order.
It turns out not everyone went home last night/this morning. As I plucked trash off the couch, I uncovered Daniel still sound asleep in his navy blue briefs. Suddenly, my memory flashed back on how all that flour ended up all over the kitchen.
That bitch, Daniel. I'd smack around several more of the partiers if I had the opportunity, but I don't. So once I make Daniel got off his fine, bubble butt and help me clean this mess up, I'm taking out some of my new year's frustrations on his finely muscled body and drop dead gorgeous face.
This will take some time. I'll update you as soon as my annual cleaning here at neverland is finished, and report back on how the action turns out with Daniel. Wish him luck. He and all those muscles of his are going to need it!