Monday was the 11-year anniversary of the day the Beast and I decided we were "together." We were only 14 at the time. Oh wait, he was 13 (I'm such a cradle robber). We've been together ever since, with nary an interruption to the blissful flow of ecstatic union and stuff. I am, of course, deliriously happy to mark the date
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I'm so sorry - nothing, nothing is quite like Jungle Jim's. It's an adventure in itself. :]
While we were there, the Beast overheard a white lady muttering on her cell phone, "I just hate coming here and having to be around them." Not sure which enthnicity she was busy loathing, but I thought it was notable as it was the first indication I'd ever seen at Jungle Jim's of anything other than gastronomically-based interracial harmony. Sigh.
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Next week is fine. :]
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