So my daughters and daughter-in-law took me to a drag brunch today for The 24-hour Progenitor Celebration. I know. “But…Your Royal Majestic Graciousness Of Castle Blogferatu,” you’re saying, “with submission, my leige…wasn’t that last Sunday?” Indeed it was, faithful minions, but none of us were dumb enough to try to go to Sunday brunch on actual Father’s Day.

And besides, is there really any better place to be of a late Sunday morning than at a drag brunch? What can I tell ya? I worship in my own way.

My point is, there may have been slightly more Bloody Marys and maybe a couple shots more than was prudent or necessary, so today’s post will be a bit short, and very possibly slurred, after which I will be napping until tomorrow morning. Apparently I’m not as young as I used to was.

Anyway, I found this li’l devil in some antique shop around Norfolk. May have been up on Granby Street. Despite having seen Trilogy Of Terror and knowing full well this thing is undoubtedly cursed, I picked it up anyway. Nothing untoward has happened to date, but somehow I know it’s watching…aaalllways waaatchiiinnng.