Come talk to me later

It is terribly unfair that the world economic crisis has given out homework again this weekend.  New acronyms are spinning about and the gentle sounding Talf is wandering around the field again with a big new friend consisting of Things-To-Be-Announced-On-Monday-But-Known-Beforehand and all the groupies and enemies of big new friend are mobbing around chattering madly.  Missmarketcrash is staring with wide hungover eyes, courtesy of spending an evening with a Glaswegian who is officially classified as a Giant (6'7"), a crushingly intelligent Irishman, a few flirty girls and a Ewan McGregor look-a-like.  We spent much of the evening discussing "when is it literature and when is it porn and when is it both...". But I digress.  I can see where this is all going if I am mixing last night's conversation with this mornings homework.  No no no. Come talk to me later.  

to be continued...