Hey, long time, no talk! It's been an interesting bit of time since I last blogged. Let's start off with the list of places I went to last weekend.

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Yup, that's about it. Other than the gym and stopping by my bro's house for the requisite Christmas visit, I didn't leave the house. I barely showered. I'm very proud.

I did see a lot of movies, though. Saw Mr. and Mrs. Smith and spent most of the time marveling over how incredibly attractive Angelina is. Lord. That kind of beauty should seriously be illegal. It's almost pointless to watch her movies, because I never know what's going on - I just sit there with my mouth open. I think there was some shooting going on or something.

Let's see ... also saw Lords of Dogtown (good stuff), watched War of the Worlds again, watched Titanic for about the 50th time, repeat viewing of Sideways (which is just a phenomenal flick in all aspects ... unless you like big explosions), and I did a ton of sleeping and cat petting. I also made turkey. That's right, I'm single, and I can make turkeys. So there.

So, a few blogs back, I mentioned a beautiful woman that I met at Portside, who I had known a few years earlier. Well, on Wednesday, we went out on a date. I've come to the conclusion that I am just terrible at first dates, especially when I'm on one with someone I really dig. I'm good at every other aspect of dating - the first phone call, the exchange of blood test results, the breakup that leads to a month-long bout of binge drinking - but I struggle with the first date deal. Not exactly the best thing to be bad at, eh? So, let's count where I screwed up:

- I didn't compliment her on how she looked ... and she looked fantastic. Dumb move #1!
- At one point, I looked down and noticed that her beer was empty. I have no idea how long it was ... could've been for a week. Dumb x2!
- I was pretty much nervous the entire time. I'm always nervous on first dates ... it's a curse. When I'm nervous, I get kinda quiet. Needless to say, that rarely goes over well on a first date.
- I gave her a hug rather than a good night's kiss. That takes guts!

Ugh. As I was leaving her house, I remember thinking if that was an episode of Blind Date, I would've been calling the guy an idiot the whole time. I think I have one last chance ... she's supposed to be in Canton tonight, so I'm going to send her a text to see if she wants to meet up. I figure if I don't get a response, I'll already be well on my way to drowning my sorrows in booze. It's good to be prepared for all outcomes.

Ok, bring on the flood of advice that I know is coming. On to other stuff ...

Pretty fired up for New Year's Eve. Going to a small party with a few friends and just chillin'. I refuse to go out on Amateur Night these days. I mean, here I am, a Professional Drunken Idiot - I'm even licensed in multiple states as such - and there are going to be people out there who haven't even applied for a license. Fuhgedaboudit. I've also yet to figure out the logic of paying $100 to go to the same bars as always. I mean, I may be dumb, but I'm not stupid.

Funny thing at the gym the other day. I'm on the elliptical thingy, and I find a set of keys in the cupholder. I go to the desk, and here's the convo with the desk girl:

Me: Hi ... someone left their keys upstairs.
She: You left your keys upstairs?
Me: [pause] Uh, why would I be giving you my keys?
She: [pause] You want to give me your keys?
Me: [longer pause] Let's start over ...

Now, I know I'm prone to be a bit of a soft talking mumbler, but c'mon!

My favorite resolution, and the same one I make every year - I resolve this year not to make any resolutions. Confusing, eh?

Went shopping the other day. Had to get some new duds for the big date, and I wanted to hit some sales in general. Man, going to a mall to me is like poking myself in the eye with a pitchfork repeatedly. Just sayin'. I did get a couple of fine new shirt, though. Went to Men's Wearhouse (which, as I believe I've mentioned before, I like to call Men Swearhouse ... yeah, I'm a dork) and re-bought this shirt that I absolutely love.

Ok, make sure you're sitting down for this part ... it's a striped shirt.

That's right, people. I bought a striped shirt. Now, if you're saying to yourself, "wait a second ... that idiot bought a striped shirt a number of blogs back", well, you'd be right. I say re-bought because I managed to put the original shirt I bought in the wash and it came out looking like it might be a good fit for a jockey. Smartly, I decided to read the label AFTER I washed and dried it. Brilliance personified, me. In essence, this shirt cost me $120. I had a coupon and got some money off, so I actually got two pretty cool shirts for $35, so I'm rationalizing it away.

A'ight, merry merry everyone and have a safe New Year's!

Whew. A very tiring weekend, but strangely productive in a few ways. As for Friday, let's just say this is a recipe for disaster:

1 part ride to a party in BFE with a girl
mix in 1 part argument with said girl upon arrival
1 part leave party in BFE ticked off, and realize you have no idea where you are other than being in Catonsville somewhere
fold in 1 part no coat
add 1 part freezing cold
1 part 3:00 am
1 part call a cab and wait 30 minutes for it to arrive in said freezing cold
1 part $25 cab ride home
Stir and serve chilled

Yeah. My advice - don't ever make that concoction ... unless, of course, you're into pain and little sleep.

Oh, and 1 part foot-in-mouth disease from earlier in the night. I saw a guy I used to play softball with, and I asked him how his hottie wife was doing. I think those were my exact words. I'm very classy sometimes. I watched in slow motion as his face fell, and he informed me that they got divorced a few months ago. Yeah. Friday was quite the evening all around.

Saturday, my buddy Damon came into town. We headed to Looney's for the 5:00 football game, and were good and drunk by the end of the game. It's not really the best sign when you stop for just a second, look at the table where you are sitting, and realize that it is filled with empty drink glasses. Oofa. Damon also likes to bum smokes off people. Now, the first one, he bummed off this attractive woman (yeah, I know - what the hell was an attractive woman doing in Looney's?), which helped me to start a bit of a convo with her. So, being the brilliant wing man he is, Damon then starts bumming smokes off of some dude. Um, hello? Hot girl here, chance to talk to her every time you bum a smoke. Jeez. I might have to write a wing man manual or something.

After a quick stop home, we headed to Fell's, which was incredibly average. Basically, a waste of a cab ride. Actually, I'm not sure if the Horse was good or not. As we were walking in, I see Argument Girl from the previous night sitting at the bar. Of all the gin mills in the world, she shows up at the Horse. Figures. I literally pulled Damon out of the Horse when I saw her, and grabbed a cab. As we were on the way back to Canton, Damon informed me that his night was complete, and he was ready for bed. Time check was around 10:30. Naturally, I was nowhere close to being done, so I set Damon up with some water, the leftover nachos from Looney's, and the remote and headed back out.

Hold onto your seats, cuz this will be a huge surprise - I stopped at Portside! Imagine my dismay when I found out they were closed for a private party. But, hey, that's what they make the side door for, right? Upon undercover sneaky entry, I realized that (1) I was underdressed (people had ties on fer chrissakes! It's Saturday night in Canton!), (2) I was possibly the least drunk person there and (3) a beautiful woman had just walked by and I recognized her. After the requisite hour to remember who she was, and a couple of interesting side conversations with friendly drunks, I went over, said hello, and had the most fascinating conversation. It went something like this:

Me: Hey, didn't you used to work at such and such gym?
She: Yes, I did.
Me: Ah! So [noting dude standing next to her], is this the boyfriend?
She: No.
Me: Is there a boyfriend?
She: No.
Me: Cool! Can I get your number?

Yup, I'm as subtle as a sledgehammer. Once you acquire the number of a beautiful woman, you are officially allowed to end the night, which is what I did. A grand exit, indeed.

A couple of other interesting things happened during the weekend:

- I'm at Petco. I walk up to the register, and it's kinda crowded. I hear "I can take the next person on Register Hamster". I look up, and realize that the registers don't have numbers, they have pictures of animals. So, you can have Register Dog, Register Cat, Register Boll Weevil, you get the gist. I think corporate probably made that up so their employees feel like idiots. I know that's how I felt walking up to "Register Hamster".

- Stopped into the mattress store to look at ... you guessed it ... mattresses! As I'm in there, this attractive woman comes in and starts trying them out. You know, she's bouncing around, testing out all the sleeping ... um ... positions, and so forth. I then realize it's pretty much impossible to watch such a scene without having some really interesting thoughts. 'Course, I also managed to drag out the memory of Rebecca DeMorney in Risky Business trying out the mattresses. Yeah!

A very strange occurrence happened in my house the other day. I got up and went to brush my teeth, and my toothbrush was missing. There are a couple of possible culprits here:

- Cat #1
- Cat #2
- stuffed gorilla that sits on my speaker
- stuffed rabbit that sits on my bookcase
- intruder

Since nothing else was missing from my house, and I have a motion detector, I don't think it was an intruder. Besides, who would climb in a second story window to steal a toothbrush? Well, who other than the Cavity Creeps would?

I'm thinking it's Cat #1. He's always jumping up on the sink. I used to think it was to play with the water, but I realize now it's been this sinister plot to steal my toothbrush. He's been casing the medicine cabinet, like Kojak. Li'l twerp. Let's see what happens when I hide his litter.

Went into the bathroom at work, and tried to get one of these motion detector things to work so that the toilet would flush. I dunno what the deal is with these things, but I must not have MD Karma (that's motion detector karma for those not hip to be square), because I was doing everything I could to get this thing to work, and nuttin'. I'm waving at it, slapping it, barking at it, I think I even did the Macarena at one point. Then, I noticed the little manual button to the right of the detector. Yeah. I haven't been mistaken for smart in a long time.

Had a mellow rock concert on Thursday night. I was playing some Springsteen, and then I did some Sheryl Crow. I had the entire crowd lighting their lighters and swaying to "Home". It was quite the show ... in my head.

RIP Chris Whitley. Just found out that he passed a few weeks ago. Go get Living With The Law if you want to hear some really good music, or contact my friend Sherith, and she'll explain to you just how incredible this dude was.

So, I'm yammering with a female friend at work, and we start discussing men's watches. Apparently, women use watches like they use shoes on a dude ... you know, as a sort of measuring stick. I don't wear a watch. At all. Ever. I tell time by my cell phone. Explains a lot, doesn't it? I do, however, wear shoes ... quite often, in fact, so I think it balances out.

I absolutely hate getting my hair cut, and I absolutely hate the word hate. So, what I'm saying is ... what the hell am I saying? Oh, yes, the hair cutting thing. I'm not really sure why I hate it so much. I mean, it's not painful, it's not expensive, it's just an incredible annoyance. I used to go to the Hair Butchery ... er, Cuttery ... but I'm going to try a joint just around the corner this time.

'Course, the only thing worse than getting my hair cut is getting a bad haircut. Once, at the Butchery, I had a little communication problem with the butcher ... er, "stylist" (like they actually style your hair for 12 bucks - please!). Anyway, I literally looked like a Chia pet when I got done with that cut. LOTS of hat wearing that month, lemme tell ya.

I made steak fajitas tonight. They turned out ok, but for the life of me, I cannot seem to figure out how to wrap up anything in a tortilla. It's bloody ridiculous. Tonight, I'm trying to hold this thing together, and it falls apart like a house of cards in a hurricane. So, steak fajita salad was immediately invented.

So, I had a kind of a weird dichotomy at the gym the other day. Yeah, I know what dichotomy means ... I think. I'm pretty sure. Maybe. Anyway. So, I'm sitting there, and I'm listening to this World Party tune. I'm not sure what it's about, but I think it's got some biblical sorta references in there or something. They're sorta Beatle-esque, so it's one of those relaxing peace pop sorta songs. Anyway, as I'm listening to this, I'm watching this class called BODY COMBAT. I put it in caps because I just seem to envision someone booming out the name every time they say it.

Welcome one and all to BODY COMBAT!
Tonight, in the back aerobics room, we'll be having a BODY COMBAT class.
I take BODY COMBAT because there are hot girls in there.

You know, that sorta thing. So, anyway, I was just struck at me listening to this tune, while people are practicing beating the urine out of other people as a means of staying in shape. Odd. I do love the idea of staying in shape by beating other people up. There's a joke in there somewhere, but I can't find it right now.

Ah, so I just downloaded a Beck tune from the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind soundtrack. Good stuff. Both the movie and the song. Dig it.

I'm inherently lazy. I was looking around my house tonight, and I realized that it's gonna suck when I die and someone has to come in here and clean up this joint. I'm not dirty or nuttin', I just am somewhat materialistic and I have a lot of junk. F'rinstance? A'ight:

- I have this little Rumplemintz shot thingy that a former supervisor gave me. It just sits on my desk, collecting dust. It's pretty dusty.
- I have a little tube of Elmer's glue. I've never, ever used it, but I still have it. Probably had it for 10 years. I think I keep it more for the bottle than anything else. Good ol' Elmer's.
- I have an old, beat up portable CD player that doesn't work anymore. I still have it. Don't ask, because I don't have any clue why.
- I have a stuffed rabbit. I haven't the slightest idea who gave it to me, but I still have it. Like the Rumplemintz thingy, it's good at collecting dust. Hey, it's a Dust Bunny! HA!
- I have a 3 hole punch. Right. You read that correctly.
- I probably have at least 5 beer bottle openers. I hate beer, haven't drank it in at least 15 years, and I rarely have guests. Yet I have at least 5 of these things. Pure genius.
- I bought this Red Lye crap to clear my bathtub drain. It worked about as well as using an old toothbrush to comb your hair. Yet, it's got soooooo many friggin' warnings on it, I'm almost afraid to throw it out. I get this visual of the garbagedude running around with his hair on fire. I get some vivid and dumb visuals sometimes.
- I have a bicycle helmet, even though I think bicycle helmets are for complete and total pansies.

I'm stopping there but I could go on for hours. I'm very proud of the worthless junk I've collected. Maybe I should change my name to Fred Sanford. Lamont!

A'ight, you should probably be sitting down before you read the next few lines. If you're wearing a hat, might want to take it off, lest it pop off your head and hit the ceiling. Those with children or expecting ... take extreme care.

I didn't go out at all this weekend. Zip. Zippo. Bupkis. Nada.

Ooooh, sorry. I was afraid that some might faint from this news. You ok? Here, put some ice on that.

Yeah, it was a very odd weekend. I barely left the couch, other than to go to the gym and to clean the kitchen. I was even all dolled up on Saturday night and had half a drink in me in prep for hitting the square, and I bailed. Ended up staying home and watching movies and TV.

So, here's what I watched during the course of the weekend, with the appropriate notes:

Menace II Society
- in all of these 'hood movies, someone always dies in the end - Boyz, Menace, New Jack City, South Central, etc. I like all of those movies, but I just sit and wait for someone to get shot. You know it's comin'. Suffice it to say that if I lived in any of these 'hoods, any time a car turned onto my street, I'd be diving under the porch.

Titanic
- A'ight, people love to hate this movie, but I love it, so bite me. Why? There aren't any WTF? situations with the main characters when the boat starts going down. You know those situations - there are usually about 50 in your average horror movie - why are they walking down into the dark basement, why are they having sex in the killer's bed, why are they turning their back to the murderer when we all KNOW he ain't dead ... stupid noise like that. Well, that Titanic couple pretty much did logical stuff when that thing started going down. I'm hip to that.

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Whateverthatnameis (twice)
- I'm a big fan of the first one, but I think this one is my favorite, because it's so dark. I like dark. Plus, the kid that plays Neville Longbottom just keeps getting uglier as he gets older. Gotta feel for that kid. The only major issue - no sorting hat! The sorting hat is the coolest thing ever. Period. Arguing this is not allowed.

"Ha! Another Weasley! I know just what to do with you... Gryffindor!"

Goodfellas
- What, I'm some sorta comedian? I'm here to amuse you? What the F is so funny about me?

Meet The Parents
- Ok, so for some reason, I have this thing for the woman that plays the lead in this movie. She's even hotter in the second one. I spent most of this movie trying to figure out why I find her so hot. Still haven't figured it out. Plus, Ben Stiller plays an unlikable character in every movie he's in - fascinating.

What's Eating Gilbert Grape
- A personal favorite.

Survivor
- Ok, so my future wife just won a million dollars. That might make it a little tougher to get her to agree to be my future wife, but I'm workin' on it. I figure as a fall back, I still have Rebecca from the Amazing Race of a few seasons ago.

So, I don't really like winter. Unless it gets me out of work, snow is useless to me, and part of the reason I stayed in this weekend was the cold. But, possibly the worst part of winter is the increase in laundry. Since I'm wearing more layers, that means more laundry. Doing laundry sucks, doing more laundry sucks more. A simple equation. Another point that is unarguable.

I'm also one of those people that can't seem to get the laundry from the basket to the drawers/closets. I basically live out of the basket. I'm a Basket Liver! A Basket Case? Hmm ...

Bring on some mofo snow, yo! A teacher friend of mine sent me an email which noted that one of the kids in her class had a recipe to make it snow. It was something about putting two ice cubes in the toilet, and then putting his PJs on backwards or something like that. So, I'm going to the liquor store, buying a monster bag of ice, and hanging out in my bathroom tonight.

Hey, if I get a snow day tomorrow, it's triple fun:

1) I have HBO now, so I actually have something to watch
2) I'm within walking distance to the bars
3) Said bars are generally hecka crazy on snow days ... hecka!

I think #3 has to do with teachers. See, teachers see a lot of snow and they immediately rush out to get tanked. Doesn't even matter if it's a weekend or not. I think it's genetic or something.

Funniest thing I've heard in some time: "Who needs a bowl you can't eat?" I'm still chuckling over that one, thanks to JB. Yup, no one else has found it funny yet. Punks.

Ok, I have a new invention. I have TIVO, so I rarely watch commercials - I'm usually zipping through them. Now, most red-blooded American males like myself will definitely stop for commercials if there's one thing present - hot chicks. So, if I'm the TIVO people, I develop a little symbol that pops up when you're fast forwarding through commercials that alerts men when there are hotsos and stuff present. Actually, you could come up with a number of symbols:
- a little cleavage symbol for hotsos, girls in bikinis, "Girls Gone Wild" ads, and anything involving the Palms casino or the movie "Showgirls"
- a shoe for shopping for the ladies
- a bottle of booze for alkies
- a burger for food junkies

Plus, this is now in writing, you TIVO bastards, lest you think you can steal my idea. HA!

In case you're wondering, here are my other brilliant invention ideas:

- The Bed Brush ... for those of us too lazy to wash our sheets on a regular basis, it's a brush to clean the bed. It's foam, and it gets rid of peanuts, used and unused condoms, litter, and cracker crumbs, among other things people have in their beds. Maybe it would have an extender handle, to get rid of the previous night's hookup. I could go on, but I'll spare you.

- The Multiple Card Organizer ... this one's really exciting. Dunno about you, but when we go out to eat in groups, everyone seems to have $20s, and there's always a couple of people who want to use their credit cards. Well, the MCO has a number of slots for the cards, and an area where you can write how much to put on each card. It looks the same as the usual check book thingy, it just has more slots and the writing area. I actually pursued this one for a bit, then I lost interest. Kinda like the women in my life. Ha!

- I'm pretty sure someone has invented heated toilet seats, but I can't seem to find any. So, if it hasn't been invented, that's my next one.

- Kraft actually stole my idea for Waffle Crisp, but they screwed it all up (actually, that's not a joke, but it's a long story). You make a cereal of little tiny Eggos, and put a spot of syrup in the middle. You can do blueberry and strawberry, too. Brilliant!

I've been getting this magazine Blender. I didn't order it or anything, it just started showing up one day, and it's pretty much garbage on slick paper. Put it to you this way - Ashlee Simpson is on the latest cover. Put it to you this way part II ... if Ashlee Simpson was on every pint of Ben and Jerry's, or gracing all of the cookie packages of the world, I'd be a whole lot thinner.

Have I mentioned that I'm in love with Danni from Survivor yet? I have? Eh, well I am. So there.

The Three Stooges were back in the gym today! Long time, no see. They've added a fourth Stooge, too. I guess that's Schempf.

Speaking of the gym, there's a woman in there who might be in the best shape of any woman I've ever seen in person, and she drives me nuts ... in a bad way. I was in there the other day, and I forgot my iPod. Big mistake. Unfortunately, I got on a bike in front of her and got to listen to her SING nice and loud the entire time. What's worse, she was really, really bad at it. Things like that make me really wonder what the hell is wrong with people. I mean, that goes way past 10 on the Inconsiderate Scale. She's pretty much a fool in general in the gym, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

Hey, is it snowing yet, yo? Yo! Yo?!

I think I just set the record for cookies eaten in a day. I lost count after a dozen. I'd call Guinness, but I'm too fat to pick up the phone. I think I was sweating oatmeal and raisins at the gym. I also think I'm sprouting blue fur and turning into the Cookie Monster.

As a quick aside, why didn't they just cut a hole in the Cookie Monster's mouth, so that it would look like he was eating the cookies? That used to drive me nuts as a kid. It was like a storm of cookies and crumbs when he went nuts, yet none went in his mouth. Zip. Zippo. Bupkis.

Ok, so the weekend recap. Friday, we had our work holiday party. I was dumb enough to show up early and apparently didn't get the memo that I should overdress. I wore my best club gear, and someone asked me if I was pimpin'. Eh, maybe I was ... I am a member of the "Pimpin' Ain't Easy" group, in case you didn't know.

So, as I'm waiting for some people that I actually know and like to show up, I realize that I have a bit of a situation on my hands. See, the bar was a cash bar, which is basically like telling me I can't have any cookies around the holidays. Thinking ahead, like the brilliant drunk I am, I brought my flash fresh with Tattoo. Problem was, they had a coat check, and I couldn't really walk around with a flask sticking out of my pimp pants.

So, I had to pretend like I was very cold, and continue to wear the jacket so that I would have the flask handy. So, not only am I pimpin' (apparently), I'm also walking around in my full wool coat. As if I need to give people a reason to think I'm weird ... no, no, not weird ... eccentric! Ha.

So, people I know finally show up, and we grab a table. Now, ya'll should know by now that I work in hospital administration. The beauty of these work parties is that all the nurses show up to these things. I have a couple of close friends who are nurses, and I can say this without any doubt in my mind - nurses are CRAZY! Absolutely nuts.

So, I'm sitting there, and one of the nurses and I start talking. She proceeds to tell me everything that's wrong with the department, and mentions that she can send me a report. She then asks me for my email address.

Now, I've made some fairly smooth moves in my time (hey, even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then), but I later realized this tops anything I've ever done. As an extra added bonus, she has me write it in a book which is some sorta religious book. I dunno, all I saw was JC on the front and something about Christianity. So, I'm writing my email in this book carefully ... I have to, because every time my fingers touch the pages, they get singed. I also find out that she gets a plate of food just for show, so that people won't ask why she's not eating, and only eats dessert. Um ... yeah.

At that point, I took my pimp ass outta there, went to Blockbuster, and rented Murderball, which is a fine little documentary if you get the chance. I was actually asleep by midnight. Which leads to ...

... Saturday! I'm talking on text to the hot neighbor, and I note to her that I was asleep by midnight. Here's our convo:

Me: I was asleep by midnight last night.
She: Uh oh
Me: Uh oh?
She: That means a big night tonight
Me: You know me too well!

Had my pal Jim pick me up, and we hit Gecko's. Yes, smart asses, I actually have a friend. I love Gecko's - the only problem is we know the bartender which means ... you guessed it ... shots. Ugh. I managed only to do one shot of Rumplemintz, which always seems to make me sneeze. Go figure. We then headed to the Waterfront, which is my new favorite bar in Fell's. We zipped to the upstairs bar, and we managed to overhear quite possibly some of the foulest sex talk I think I've ever heard ... and that includes the Playboy Channel. Wow. What's worse, the woman doing the talking was at least a long drive away from the town of Attractive. Yeesh.

Eventually, Jim split, and I ended up at ... sing along with me ... Portside! I'm sure you're shocked. Towards the end of the night, I was sorta teetering by the door, getting ready to leave, when a young lady walked by and asked me if I wanted to go to a party. We'll call her Nubian Goddess, or NG for short. I'm not sure it's possible to say yes faster. The party was about 2 blocks away. Around the halfway point of our trek there, I remarked that I was getting bored, which went over really well.

The party was interesting. Think a bunch of nerds in a really fancy pad, and that's pretty much what was going on. We hung out for a bit, I almost got in trouble for talking to another woman, I apparently made a couple of fantastic drinks (I'm pretty sure I closed my eyes, grabbed four bottled, and mixed them in a cup) and then headed home.

Sunday was pure recovery. I went to lunch with the HN, and she remarked on more than one occassion that she had been kept awake the night before by the revelry going on at my house. I quickly changed the subject and pretended not to hear. It got a little tricky after the fifth reference, but I managed. I'm slick that way, doncha know.

I also think I might still be hungover. Ugh. Maybe it's the cookies.