Last night was a night for excess. We went to an Atlanta landmark and haven for 24-hour debauchery, Backstreets, until the wee, wee hours. The clientele there is predominantly gay; they even have a drag show we caught part of. It was a great time. I even danced for the first time in years.

I must put out an exceedingly straight vibe -- I've never been hit on by a man, and last night was no exception. It's been going on like that so long that there's a running joke that I have to buy a drink for the first gay man who hits on me. Marjorie was the recipient of a clumsy come-on -- from a man -- right in front of me, though.

Today was all about recovery. We both were feeling crapulent as heck all day. I love that crapulent is an actual word.