Pip, Pip Cheerio!

Gah! Totally forgot about the little tryst Stacey and I had awhile back with these two lads, Sam and Ray…

In dim lighting, Sam bore a striking resemblance to an emo version of James McAvoy (ya know, the pretty goat-man from The Chronicles of Narnia). And Ray was the spitting image of a slightly malnourished Tom Cruise.

Jackpot. We’re both such suckers for celebrity doppelgangers.

But then, things got even better. When James and Tom, I mean…Sam and Ray opened their mouths, British accents fell out!

Zoinks, Scoobs! T-t-t-tasty, celebrity look-a-like foreigners! Yesss.

The British Bobbsey twins were only going to be in town for a long-weekend but Stacey was in one of her delightful man-eating moods, so she invited them out with us the next night for dinner etc.

So truth be told, at the time of the British invasion, we’d been living in our apartment for just under two months, and we had yet to even contemplate cleansing the joint.

The situation really wasn’t that bad though. Stacey and I are fairly neat-nicky. But apparently, there’s nothing like a little male motivation to light a fire under your sponge.

All Friday morning, Stacey and I Cinderella-ed the crap out of our apartment. I’m telling you, it was spotless. We scrubbed, we scraped, we got our floors so clean you could eat off ‘em! Which you basically have to do anyways since we don’t currently own a dining set.

Then 6 o’clock hit, and I got the call…

…kick it Mr. Revere!

“The British are coming! The British are coming!”

Sam and Ray picked us up at our apartment in their swank-a-licious, little rent-a-car and drove us to the 50’s diner on Coronado (I just can’t get enough of this place!).

The repast was delightful. Stacey and I both ordered mountainous piles of ice cream and brownies. One pile definitely would have been more than adequate for the two of us to split, but there are no sharesies when it comes to mountainous piles of ice cream and brownies, uh uh.

After dinner, things got a little less delightful, however. The four of us went for a gambol in the ocean where Stacey and I stole a covert girl talk moment…

We decided that the combination of natural lighting and Sam and Ray’s personas had been a lethal one. And the evening’s projected magic had OD-ed on razor blade haircuts, and schadenfreudes.

Here are three of my favorite British quotes of the night…

1. Ray: “Hannibal Lector…he’s kind of a hero of mine.”
Exchange of uneasy, what-the-f-bomb glances between Stacey and myself.
Ray: “Well maybe hero isn’t the right word. But he’s definitely a legend.”

2. Ray: “And then, I don’t know why I did it, but I let go…I dropped a rock on my brother’s head!”
Additional uneasy, what-the-f-bomb glances.

3. Ray to Stacey: “My, you’ve got big feet for a girl!”
(Ray nearly got slapped in the face for that remark.)

But ya know, then Stacey and I both got a little moonshine into our systems and then, well…we didn’t want to have cleaned our apartment in vain…sooo yeah.