I feel like I've gone to a hundred parties with Libby. Like, you're not exactly standing in the same circle talking to her and you just catch that look out of the corner of your eye and KNOW that Libby fucking hates you and now the whole group in the kitchen thinks you're a piece of shit. And of course THEN you have to go get ice or something and it gets eerily silent when you walk in.
Put an ad on Craiglist for "found llama" and see how many weirdos you get responding. It's probably some secret code for orgies that us boring people don't know about.
Are you sure it was the nanny that took the pic and not the kids' mom?
My brother had a llama. His name was Tony. Tony Llama. I told him he needed to get Tony a wife and name her Dolly. True story. Really bad story, but true.