The ol’ gang gathered at Celeste & Ian’s for the housewarming-birthday party. We played live-action Clue, with a brief intermission by a barbershop quartet to serenade Celeste.
I didn’t go in with a competitive spirit to solve the mystery of who killed Celeste, but about 15 minutes before the end while I lounged on the chaise with moto, Ian asked me, “So you’ve solved it right?” Surprised, I replied, “Whot? What would make you think that?” He flipped back, “I’ve met you.” Yeah, we used to live together back in one of my heydays (and still consider him a big brother), so yeah, he has a good read despite my best attempts to suppress Type A tendencies. I decided to deliver to meet expectations and knew I was close. I ran upstairs to accuse and won, barely beating out Jeremy. (It was Summer in the Powder Room with Blue Cheese.)
This is later, post-Clue. I can’t remember what the inspiration was here for our resident Alien’s anger, but I imagine someone suggested that a Republican might win on November 4. (Moto’s bday — take note!)