White Day approacheth.
The last time I got a White Day present was when Adjusshi arrived at my door in a blazer with a basket of Chupa Chups arranged in a bouquet. It was wonderful. And hilarious. Because he didn’t wear suits, and threw it over a rather odd outfit in an attempt to impress me. But, it worked, so whatever.
This year, I’ve got 12 days to whip something up.
I fear the Drummer is out, mostly because the Drummer is always out and I’d be a fool to count on him. I also fear KFF might be out, because it’s a Wednesday and we don’t usually meet during the week.
I suspect by the time Black Day rolls around, I’ll be, once again, joyfully scarfing black noodles. Hell, even if I wasn’t single, I’d be joyfully scarfing black noodles. Who doesn’t love black noodles? I stand by the statement that the sound of preparing your dish of black noodles with a chopstick in each hand, the squishing sound of the sauce coating each noodle, and the sticky look as each pull becomes more and more ready to eat is one of the most amazing moments in the world. That and instruments tuning before a show starts. I mean, come on.
