Last night for dinner I had raspberry pheasant — the recipe calls it "Quick Raspberry Pheasant" but there are 48 hours of marinating involved so clearly our definitions differ.

It was very good, but I'd cut through some unlucky bones when I was parting out the bird and so there was yellow marrow everywhere. I find it a bit odd that I'm so disgusted by something that was probably a delicacy what, ten generations ago, but I am disgusted. Ugh.

Not even a crispy Stella at Tavern on the Ave (where a bunch of us met up for Jenna's B-day party) could make my mouth feel clean again. I eventually switched to Leinie's with lemon because of its known antiseptic properties.

Anyways, the Tavern. I have pictures! But they're terrible! Pro tip: candid shots are uninteresting if all you can see is the back of people's heads.

My bartender's attempts to goad us into buying shots were skillfully ignored.

We ended up playing some pool (Jenna carried our team to victory, completely destroying my "raised on a snooker table" mythology) and I even played a game of foosball, the only bar activity less interesting than darts. Various conversations were had, as is the norm.

Nick and his brother were there, hideously mustachioed, so there was much talk of videogames. Hopefully I'm just remembering this incorrectly, but I think I heard one of them actually defending random battles in JRPGs. I'll lend them Lost Odyssey at some point; then they'll understand.

It's cool to see some of these people who'd never show up to Girl's Night, a standby which might cease to exist, what with the dearth of shows and some impending departures. I don't think we're doing anything for the Top Chef finale tonight.

Nevertheless, last night was a good time, and plans were made for further, less girly get-togethers.