Whoever invented brunch was one crazy bastard. I’m not sure why it’s socially acceptable to get blotto at eleven in the morning on a Saturday just because you’re being served melon. And of course once you’ve had a few then it turns into a drinking afternoon and then you’re in bed by nine o’clock at night because you can’t talk.
It was a fun Sunday. I’m going to go try and finish my breakfast.
Can’t believe I have to write the second to last Matthew and Epp story now. So weird.