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.