THIS is the over-sexed meal Antipo has been harping about: Creamy, nay, Velvety Chicken Colombo, Bangin’ Bertha Aubergine Curry, and Virginal Bazmati Rice. None of us culinarily-gifted anglophones thought the Frenchies would go for it. But those bastards left nary a crumb. Hate 'em!

That was Saturday night's fun. And that beer? I swear it was only one of many the Kiwi Tart downed before engaging in a very lesbian-esque lap dance with the ill-LUST-trious Vivi while sticking her tongue in my husband's ear. At least that's my version of events...

Seek not the truth here.

Sunday, being the holiest of days, brought with it passions of a different kind. Yep, MP3 has been delivered to Jesus, Amen, PRAISE THE LORD, and Pass The Loot. She got rinsed, and I honestly had to fight the urge to leave just a little bit of shampoo in her hair before going to the Church That IS NOT In My Village. (No, I'm NOT bitter.) MP3 is notoriously the calmest of my three monkeys, and the only one of the three to cry during her baptism. I hope that’s not an omen, especially considering how much calmer her siblings became after sleeping through the same ceremony. Please God, I know I’ve been bad, but please don’t let my time in hell start now. You have an eternity to make me pay for all the sins I’ve thoroughly enjoyed here on Earth.

Vivi, in addition to being an awesome friend—or maybe because of—floored the Deacon with her answer to his question of, “What does it mean to be a godparent.” She totally got an A+ and man, ya remember those days in college when you’d pull a drunk while cramming for your exams and how if you didn’t taken the exam while you were inebriated you couldn’t recall the answers? Vivi is so not like that! She can down sixteen beers with whiskey chasers and still dazzle the man in the white dress.

Marc says I tend to exaggerate… so maybe it was only fifteen beers.

Afterwards we ate ourselves stupid and Oh My Gawd! If ever you use the same caterers we did and invite like 40 people, order food for 20. Holy Leftovers Batman! I ordered for 35. There were 31 adults and nine kids, two of whom are 13, so they hardly count as little munchkins, right? But those cooky-cooky people went a bit overboard and I have coq au vin running out of my ears. I know, I know, having coq in one’s ears can be messy, but DAYUM! And it was some good coq, but a bit too much to handle. And of course I had to share my extra coq with my darlin’ BFF Antipo—because she likes coq as much as I do. And now I’m getting e-mails from her about how yummy my nice hot juicy coq is on a lonely winter’s day. It’s INSANE. Oh, and the rest of it was good, too.

Vivi mentioned several times something about how we were going to get the devil out of MP3. So I’ll leave you with this: Do you think we succeeded? (click the photo, and you'll see what I mean)

I have my doubts…