Nannon

Rhiannon is one of our very good friends who we have grown so old with that we actually get together and play Bridge until 3am every Saturday night.

Woooooooo-hot-damn-party-people!

DOUBLE! REDOUBLE!

The fun never ends. Until one of the women cries or someone has to talk about Bridge night in couple counseling. Then, it's time to go home.

Rhiannon was kind enough to answer my odd and somewhat reduntant interview questions:

Q. Do you like cats?

Okay, do you want to know how heavy Stone Face is?

Well, example #1 is that we've kept him on our balcony since we got him. He held down some straw mat thing I bought at Bed Bath and Beyond before I burst into flames (I burst into flames at large, horrible stores like Bed Bath and Beyond and Ikea. "Burst into flames" = had panic attack).

Rhiannon (sometimes called 'Nannon or Banana if I'm the one talking about her) got the Velvet Last Supper painting and one copy of How to Cook Like a Stud.

I got a tombstone that probably ensures I'll spend my afterlife complaining about a burning sensation.