lj interruptus

B called from Las Vegas on Saturday morning (Sydney time), via Skype (yep, I'm getting handy with it - I have motivation). He was totally chuffed because he'd been to one of those American firing ranges where you can shoot all types of weaponry, including a 50mm pistol and an M2. He showed me the targets over the video link, wow. I'm happy he's having a good time. Today (I think) he's driving to Flagstaff to stay with a friend.

So last night Son of Satan came over because his girlfriend and her daughter were down the south coast tending for an archaeological dig/tour group. We watched the first 3 episodes of Ultraviolet (God, I love that show). In the middle of one of them D sez, referring to the not-seen-in-mirrors thing, "so why can't you see their clothing?". Errr, no answer for that one.

Anyway it was a nice evening. I made a decent meal (steak, wedges & salad) and we chatted. Then I sent him home to his empty house to cuddle up with his cat and listen to the possums thudding about on the roof *g*.

Today W&G visited to pick up a sketch map of the Conferention site that we cleared a few weeks back. Over hamburgers I asked W. (who knows-a-lot) what "pink gin" suggested to him.

"The Queen Mother", he replied.

*g* But I still don't have the answer I'm looking for - what is the historical connection between gays and pink gin?