There's nothing worse than being on a food binge and having a bad Last Supper. You know, the meal that's the last one, and the next day you're eating healthy again. I had some sorta cardboardy tasting pizza for my Last Supper. Sucks. When in doubt, always go turkey pot pie! Dummy.

Ok, the weekend recap. On Friday, I did nuttin'. Felt like hell, so I stayed in and watched Magnolia. I've seen this movie before, and I think it's fantastic ... until it starts raining frogs. If you haven't seen it, you read that right. Three hours of movie, then it starts ... raining ... frogs. Mmm ... yeah ...

I have a tendency to see things when I get a tad drunk. At the time, I could swear they are real. F'rinstance, I swear that I once saw George Clooney in the upstairs of Claddaugh, making out with some chick. I also have a tendency to see incredibly hot women that I think are hitting on me, when they aren't even talking to me. Ok, maybe I do see things that aren't there, but Lauren Holly was at Portside on Saturday night, and I talked to her. So there. She wouldn't admit that she was Lauren ... she made up some fake name ... but it was her. It had to be her because she wouldn't give me her number. That's my proof and evidence. I'm quite the private dick ... er ... detective.

You know the song Tripping Billy by Dave Matthews? Well, I re-wrote it on Saturday night ... I call it Tripping April. April is the owner of Meano, the dog that bit me and left a scar that I still have today. Well, I was funnin' around on Saturday, she walked by, and I tripped her. It wasn't a full trip, just a sorta kiddin' around trip. The beauty? April was flirting with me up to that point ... after the trip, she got all po'd at me and lectured me on how I pick up women at bars and make out with them. Um, not exactly a news flash!

My new favorite woman, Victoria, was also there on Saturday. Victoria couldn't have been drunker if she was swimming in a pool of vodka doings shots of tequila. How do I know this? She was wearing sunglasses ... at night ... in the bar. Cue the Corey Hart music! You might as well put a neon sign on your head that reads "I'm Blitzen" if you're gonna do that.

My favorite part of the evening, and the only voice recording of the night. We're chillin' at Waterfront, and this dude walks up to the bar and says this: "I'd like to order some shots of Jager". Some? Now THAT'S a quality way to order drinks, people! I think I'm going to employ that strategy. Next time I'm at the bar, I'm just gonna say "I'd like some booze, please", and see what happens. Have to make sure I enunciate booze, especially if I'm at the strip club. I'd hate to get boobs. That would be awful.

I also have a new nickname for my buddy Jim - Ten High! Why's that? Well, Jim gets drunk, and is generally done for the night by 10:00. Maybe that should be Ten Low. Hmm. Ten der?

I also managed to make up with Lindsey, which I'm very proud of myself for doing ... hmm, that was almost a complete sentence. Turns out her boyfriend was just funning around with me. I'm so gullible. So, if you're scoring at home ... one woman happy with me, one woman pissed at me. A zero sum gain for the weekend.

So I'm with 2 couples on Saturday night (don't ask, cuz I don't know how I ended up in the situation, either), it's after midnight, we're in Fells, and I've got to get to Portside fairly quickly to hit prime time. Why is it that couples can never understand how slow they move? Who can tell me what's quicker - walking with 2 couples 3 blocks to get a car out of the garage, then drive to Canton, find parking, and walk to the bar ... or catching a cab that will take me from door to door? Exactly. As a bonus, I got into a convo with the cabbie about John Wayne movies. Not that I remember any of that.

Ok, I'll admit it ... I almost cried when Barbaro pulled up lame. Jeez. We're in a bar watching the race on Saturday, and I had to pretend I got something in my eye for about 10 minutes. Crimeny.

A PBR for RHB ... RIP ...