MONDAY, 7 AUGUST, 2000, PHILADELPHIA

A toast to the Gentleman Caller who has taken a lovely château à la plage for the week in Rehoboth, Delaware and so graciously (gentlemanly?) invited Micha-Kitten and I to stay for the weekend. Okay, I admit it. I like the beach. I have eschewed most of the “features” of the place where I grew up (coastal, west coast, pastels) because I find them inherently loathsome but I do likes me some hot beach action from time to time. And the Atlantic is so much more accommodating than the Pacific. About 20° warmer, no incapacitating waves nor annoying surfers that go with them. Shame about the phlegm-globby jellyfish splurching along in the breakers though. Oh well. Watch your step. Because I suddenly have a week off from my erstwhile workplace, I have committed the ultimate guest-gaffe and have invited myself back down to Delware later this week for some more red-hot slutty beach action and the such. Because I like waking leisurely over a nice green tea, lethargically planning the morning’s activities, napping on a towel in the sand, having afternoon bloody mary’s, napping again in the afternoon, then going for some kibbles and endless cocktails until the wee hours o’ the morn’. Helps when you’re in good company as well. So another toast to the Gentleman Caller. [CLINK, gulp] And another. [CLINK, gulp] And another. [CLINK, gulp] Any reason for a cocktail, right?