In addition to teaching one another the meaning of cray cray and discussing hard-hitting issues like the marketing strategy behind Snakes on a Plane (and whether John Cusack needs to be traded in for Seth Green on our “must” lists, seeing as the over-40 thing is not as cool), we do things like…

…deconstruct the job of the publicist who reps someone like Mel Gibson or Star Jones, play live CLIFF and realize the EASIEST thing to do is decide who goes off the cliff (and that we actually will choose a live-in partner with whom we’d like to have sex–since maybe that could happen down the line–and, when one of the choices is someone who is dead, we’ll choose that person as a roommate, since, y’know, he’ll be gone in a minute and we’ll have the place to ourselves), talk about serious effin’ career moves that have made strong women out of us all, realize we’re all a little bit Charlotte and a little bit Samantha, AND…
…most importantly, decide that being named an onomatopoeia is a really good idea (see: Thwok) because if all people were named by the sounds they made (use your imagination), we could always choose our exact right partners. *ahem*
Loves me some Gimlet Night.
G’nite!