A'ight! Got lots of dumb idiotic things in this one. I'm sure that's a big surprise.

Let's talk credit cards. Now, my mantra is if you put something on a credit card, it's free! The issue comes when you try to charge something on someone else's credit card. Of course I'm not making any sense. I haven't told you the story yet. We'll come back to that later.

So, Friday. I start out the night with my work amigos at Red Maple. Now, I'm expecting overly dressed people, martinis, and expensive stuff all the way around. Instead, we're basically the only people in the place, the food was actually reasonably priced and ... well, we had martinis, so at least I got something right. I guess happy hour isn't a big event at Red Maple. Just a tip.

From there, I headed home to play rock star and drink myself into a lather. Eh, you know what - let's just get to the striking out part. That's more fun anyway.

So, I'm at Portside (shocking!), and Chrissy Hot comes in with an equally hot friend named Leah. Now, Chrissy Hot dates a friend of mine, so we're yapping about all kinds of silliness. Well, actually, we usually yap about how hot she is. Don't ask me, I just kinda go with it. Anyway, so I'm very much into her friend, who I dub Leah Hot (I'm a lazy bastard, so going forward, we'll call these two CH and LH). When we're introduced, LH notes that she knows me already. From where? Portside! Hmm ... that's probably not the best sign, but I've never been know to see signs.

One thing I've learned about CH ... she's not the best wingperson. But, she's hot, so she can get away with that. I mention to her that I'm into LH, that she's giving me good signals, and CH says I should get her number RIGHT NOW. CH has a tendency to get very excited about things, and sometimes spill drinks on my shoes. I turn to LH, ask for her number, and she changes the subject to something else. I try again, same result. Striking out is always fun, but doing it after getting bad advice is fab-u-lous!

What's that? Ah, yes, the credit card thing. Forgot about that. So, I'm at Portside, and the bartender calls me over and notes that my card has been declined. She also notes that it's not my card. At this point, I'm having a little trouble reading anything, but I am able to discern that there are more letters in the name than I have in mine. A bit later, the other bartender comes up and notes that they have my card. Turns out, they gave me the wrong credit card back last week when I was in there. Sweet! Not only that, but apparently, dude is in some financial heat. I mean, if you're going to give me the wrong card, at least make it someone with some dough, eh? Eh?! C'mon now, sharpen up!

The real beauty ... I realized the next day that I charged something on that credit card online. Wonderful. I should be picked up any day now by the heat for credit card fraud or ... well, I don't think they can charge you with being completely clueless, so let's go with fraud. Luckily, it was declined as well, so they called me to get a new card number. Yeesh.

Anyway, so it's the end of the night at Portside, and everyone I know has left. This includes my friend Cherie.

- A quick aside, just because I know she'll punch me for this the next time she sees me. Cherie got hecka drunk on Friday and ended up getting sick in the street. The beauty is, one of the reasons she doesn't go to Fell's Point anymore is because there are always young people around ... you guessed it ... getting sick in the streets. Ha! Good comedy, that. -

So, I'm at Portside, they're closing, I'm wide awake and bored. I see Katie at the bar ... Katie is probably more of a regular than I am at Portside, which is a little disturbing in a sense. I give her the head nod and she comes over, and we chat for a bit. Katie's quite attractive, and I've never really been sure if she's interested in me or not. Sometimes she seems to be, sometimes she doesn't. So, I ask if she has an escort home. I have my answer now as to whether Katie is into me or not. Strike three! I haven't witnessed that many strikeouts since the last O's game. Eep.

Saturday was much better because I spent it in DC, where it's impossible to meet women. So, very little striking out there. It's like going to a foreign country in a way, especially when it comes to talking to women. I haven't figured out why, it just is. I also have good friends there who make tons more money than me, so we cruise around in limos and drink tons. No complaints there. I'm probably the only guy in America that gets a limo ride to and from the bar, but can't pick up. Fascinating. Maybe a local university will do a study on it.

One of our friends, Ben, was wearing this ski cap sorta thing. Now, Ben's African American, so I noted that he could get away with wearing that cap, because it wouldn't mess his hair up. My friend Ricky agreed with me, and we had a big ol' hoot over it. Ben proceeded to call us "culturally ignorant". Now, just between ya'll and me, that's pretty much true - I'm not the sharpest knife in the ... uh ... knife drawer - but we decided to test out our theory on our friend Taft, who is also AA. Taft's response ... "they're right, dude - you can't mess up your hair with that hat."

So, naturally, we used the "culturally ignorant" line all night. Classic. I may or may not have called a woman "culturally ignorant" and she may or may not have gotten the joke. Hmm.

Sunday I spent on the couch watching my boys kick ass on the Indy Colts. The funniest part ... I called Ricky to celebrate when the Steelers had the ball on the 2 at the end of the game. Game over, right? Then, The Bus fumbles, which happens about as often as Brad Pitt not getting laid. This is pretty much a direct quote from my side of the conversation:

"Holy S***! Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod! S***! F***! I'll call you back!"

I'm so uncouth sometimes.

I'm currently fighting this mofo sinus infection ... again. I had this noise for a good portion of the summer, and now it's back. I'm on Claritin D and I just took some NyQuil, so if I pass out at some point in this blog, you'll know why.

Now, wher...