I guess it makes sense. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, and there it is.
You're a stupidly attractive dork and I love you.
Karaoke tonight. We're going to have drinks and be ridiculous.
Before you say no, keep in mind it's my birthday, I'm a tragic circus orphan, and this is the first time I've had enough friends to have a party. If you don't come, I'll assume you hate happiness.
So, who feels like going to the gun range? I'm getting antsy without anything to do.
Mayday!
Phil is a fucking teenager.
And he keeps trying to get into my pants.
Badly.
He's seriously terrible at this. How did he ever get laid?
Someone help.
My alternate universe less dead brother may or may not have invited me to Thanksgiving, which I declined because fuck that.
That said, you guys are invited (not you, Nat, because invited implies you can say no) to the annual Barton-Romanoff Secret Agent Thanksgiving Dinner. By dinner we mean takeout, vodka and poker. We can assure you with reasonable certainty nobody will die and the barrier pretty much prevents international incidents.
RSVP. Or don't. Whatever.I may open this up to Science Babies and Avengers, but I'm not sure they'd really enjoy our idea of holiday festivities.Yes there is a non-SHIELD person on the list, but she's basically a mini-Nat, so deal with it. I collect Russians.
Also, THOR IS NOT ALLOWED TO BRING HIS BROTHER. This shouldn't require saying, but I'm saying it.
Also, you have a date Friday night.
Also, I may have set Nat up on a blind date with a guy from work. So if I get disappeared, that's why.