Last night was a twofold milestone, being the first Bnonn and Smokey Night we’d had without the piggie for approximately seven hundred years, and a celebration of the fact that we finally finished paying off the motorbike. The plan was to drop the snortlepig off at her grandparents’ house, go into town and have dinner and a movie - a modest and tame proposal, no doubt, by the standards of my shroom-taking gutter-dwelling readers, but pleasing.
Then we discovered that all the movies we wanted to see started too early or too late, so we adjusted the plan to include a DVD. Then at 8:15, as we were enjoying a slice of cheesecake and a Chai latte (me) and a chocolate pudding and hot chocolate (Helpdesk Man), we got a call from the grandparents saying that the pig was frantic and wished to End it All. So we dashed home, nearly freezing to death in the process, and paused only briefly at the DVD store to get The Mask of Zorro, which was out.
We ended up watching Ghost Rider, a truly appalling movie which froze up halfway through, with the snortlepig nestled on the milks harrumphing and flinging her rear end this way and that, coming up for air only to steal Maltesers from Helpdesk Man.
It was nice. 