Originally Posted by voxsartoria
I'm in South Beach, low 80s, perfectly clear day, ensconced at the pool in what the hotel calls a "den," basically a four poster king bed. They throw in a couple bottles of champagne with reserving these things, and I began drinking the rose a little bit before 10AM. About done with the second bottle. Eurotrash dance music in the air, lots of women in bikinis, Im pretending to read Granta, and I have only the slightest energy to confirm with you internerds that I yet live.
And what are you dudettes doing?
Translation: "Yes, that's right, my life is infinitely better than all of yours combined."
As for updates, hmm . . .
Well, RJman and me had a lovers' spat, but then he admitted that he's jealous of my sofa and that Charvet is second-rate compared to Matuozzo, so we kissed and made up. Gdl has a thing for black men and expresses his repressed urges by obsessively closing the gap between his watch cases and strap ends with curved-end straps. Elgreco and Mr. Moo have the same Borrelli jacket. Cordovan is better than calfskin and burgandy is a more versatile shoe color than brown. A lot of you guys are old, but don't look old (PG is turning 40). RJman had his 'final' boots made by Delos. They are grey. He can wear a fun tie to make up for them.