The wander concludes with further gaming, and I triumph with my undying cache of spirit amazons. We all decide in the kitchen, that despite the unyielding cold, we must brave the frigid cobbles this Halloween, don the raiment and Sally into the aged evening. We got out of the house eventually, and I was well liquored and thereby warmer than I thought. The party, feenfest, is the best stocked dungeon ever, replete with stables and stretching racks, and unfortunately shoulder high candled wall sconces, which improved on christianes heavily hairsprayed coif by setting it ablaze. She manages to extinguish herself, as the rest of us are so pissed we can only point and slur firrrrey! We all dance spastically and thank the gods for Berlin weekend all night trains, hasten back to bed where the 3 of us do our best to frustrate each others sporadic advances. Sam is after all, asleep on the undulating air mattress on the floor, failing to stop the leak with a bit of orange chewing gum, which ironically does taste a lot like I imagine rubber cement and a bike patch might, if properly packaged and dipped in citrus furniture polish.
