February 26th, 2005

I Will Not Defame New Orleans.

Birthday/Poker Party

For those who can't keep their own calenders straight (and I plead guilty to being just such a person), a reiteration:


A dandy affair, spreading like a rash
through both halves of Clifford,
Upstairs, Downstairs,
So, so many rooms,
With various themes, hobbies and passtimes:
Poker Room.
Pill-Poppin' White Trash Elvisopoly.
Mystical Make-Out Room.
Beaver, King of River.
"Grand Theft Auto," aka: "Hooker Homicide" on the plasma enormo-screen.
Recital Conservatory.
Costume closet.
Naked shark-infested bloodbath (towels provided for the damp-of-heart).
Magic Garden Ring of Fire.
Oh, and did I mention cocktails?

BYOsomethingorother. Drinkies, kibbles, whathaveyou.

Though certainly not required, if you know and (thus) love Pamela and wish to bring her a birthday prezzie, she is fond of oaky, buttery chardonnays, curios in the shape of a chicken, rooster or cock, and exotic liquors and liqueurs that are difficult to pronounce and even more difficult to consume.

Dress to regress.

If you haven't been to Clifford before, email me for the address.

(P.S. Hey matel, the spinachoniongarlicdip is chilling as I type this.)