Thursday was Phil’s birthday so Saturday a bunch of us took him to Piper Down, which happened to be celebrating Halfway to St. Patrick’s Day, complete with drums and pipes, Celtic dancers, and Tshirts (which I find random and hilarious).
We closed down his favorite bar and went to my place for cake. And drinks. One day, I’ll quit partying like I’m 21. Egad! But I’m writing today because, yes, he has a name and I like him so much I let myself write it. In fact, I like him so well he has a face and here it is:
I’m in deep smit.