Being hit on by a time traveling confidence man from the 51st century and having it suggested that we, plus girlfriend, should engage in wild threesome sex is not my idea of a good time...somehow.

It's not my bag, baby.

And monosexuality is neither quaint nor the byproduct of a puritanical imagination, Harkness! I don't care what they do 3,000 years from now. Stop trying the limits of my sexuality. >_>

21:00 - Meet with international arms dealers; location: secluded and appropriately shady.
21:45 - Caviar, vodka, other Cold War stereotypes of business relationship celebration.
22:30 - Exchange hard currency for enough guns to start two revolutions; finance European terrorism.
23:30 - Starbucks, LiveJournal, Irony.

Because when you need a metric assload of guns fast, From Russia With Love is the way to go. And the only natural and appropriate thing to do after such an illegal act is to satisfy one's craving for overpriced, yuppie coffee. Except it's impossible for a venti frap anything to be overpriced compared to the cost of guns on the black market. In fact, it's a deal -- it's a steal -- it's a sale of the fucking century.

So, it could be the vodka shots talking or it could be the fact that purchasing half a million worth of small arms and ammunition does a number on a guy's feeling of self-importance, but I'm feeling pretty good. I didn't get shot, I didn't get my pants pulled down over the price, and the secluded and appropriately shady meeting place where raw fish eggs and hard liquor was consumed had many naked, dancing women of the exotic variety.

And in a not superficial and an entirely serious change of topic, the munchkin's in school, so I feel less like a piss poor parental guardian type, and I've got what seems like a pretty sweet gig lined up to kill more vampires in another universe (because the post-apocalypse scene just isn't my thing anymore).

Also, most importantly, bad craving for semi-raw steak. Tonks, is England still having that mad cow scare? If not, I'm coming over for the eating of the dinner. If so, I'm still coming over, but bringing you back so we can have the steak -- fish and chips will not do.


Edit: Oh, and T? Whatever enormous pink granny panties you found on my profile page are not mine... >_>