It's always the way - you have a badazz weekend, and on Monday the fallout begins. You start having to tell the stories, confirm the details, justify the expenses - and explain exactly why you have an enormous bruise in the shape of TEETH on your arm. And funnily enough, that's exactly what I've been doing for the last two days. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, in a first for even this battle-scarred party veteran, I am currently sporting highly-identifiable teeth marks in an easy-to-spot location, right below the arm of my tshirt, there for all the world to see. There I was, enjoying a stein at the German Club and chatting to some friends, when... *CHOMP* - bitten HARD on the arm by a tipsy swing dancer. I am assured that it was a random 'love nip', but GOD DAMN it hurt! I think I'm getting too old for this shite. :D

Anyhoo, thar she blows

Oh, and apparently I taste just like chicken. *shrug*

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