So I sit, home, alone, by myself, without anyone else around tonight and wonder aloud to myself "I wonder what Emer is up to?" And then I know in my heart of hearts that he's not home like me -- he's out having a wonderful time, chatting up the ladies at the latest hot spot, drinking fine Belgian ales that taste better to him than they do to the rest of us mortals merely because its in his hand. Stupid Sexy Flounders. I'm going to go to bed now and bite my pillow. Sigh.
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