January 18, 2007

Happy Birthday, Mr. Bingley!

Our boy is growing up. In honor of this noble occasion, I give you a snapshot of another noble occasion, when I had the privilege of getting sauced with the Bingster, among others, in New York.

To many more!

Posted by Emily at January 18, 2007 01:55 PM | TrackBack (0) |
Comments

You sure you don't mean, "TOO many more"?

Posted by: Nightfly at January 18, 2007 03:04 PM

I'm sorry, I don't really understand this "too many" concept of which you speak.

Posted by: Emily at January 18, 2007 03:28 PM

A night I remember fondly, if not exactly a night I remember well. ;-)

Posted by: Dave J at January 18, 2007 03:47 PM

Dave,
The last thing I remember was while Bingley was giving Sheila and I a ride home, he called his wife and I shouted something like "he'll be home as soon as the liquor and the time we've paid for with the hookers runs out!"

Posted by: Emily at January 18, 2007 03:53 PM

Hahaha! I'd forgotten you'd shouted that! Luckily my Bride is quite understanding.

And awfully hard of hearing at 4am...

Thanks!

Posted by: Mr. Bingley at January 18, 2007 04:05 PM

*cough* I meant "Sheila and ME..."

Posted by: Emily at January 18, 2007 04:29 PM

I can see you got the boy fairly well liquored up. He's wearing his suspenders over his ears.

At least, I HOPE the liquor is the reason.

Posted by: Ken S, Fifth String on the Banjo of Life at January 18, 2007 05:52 PM

Emily,

Do you still have Jar Jar? If I remember, I paid 99 cents for it on eBay, and $4 for shipping.

Posted by: Tainted Bill at January 19, 2007 06:35 AM

She takes him to every plushie party, Bill.

Posted by: Mr. Bingley at January 19, 2007 06:39 AM

She's probably had a few modifications added on to him.

Posted by: Tainted Bill at January 19, 2007 06:52 AM

Yes, Bill. I still have Jar Jar. SANS modification, despite your libelous suggestions otherwise.

Posted by: Emily at January 19, 2007 07:19 AM

Family gave me a JJ for Christmas a few years back, while I was still working. Found I could fling him across the room, hit a wall or cube without causing any outcry from the neighbors, and - usually - have him fall to the floor, with that insipid look still on his face. People began to borrow him whenever the fan was getting dirty. Had to make them promise note to twist off any parts. He's here, now, myopically peering down from a shelf. No JJ tossing tonight; the dog is still up. Be well...

Posted by: OldeForce at January 20, 2007 11:55 PM