I have the "Hey Ya" song in my head right now. I'd be happier if a herd of wombats were gnawing on my fingers. Cripes. Does it get funnier than the word wombat, though?

Ok, so I went to South Bend this weekend for the big Notre Dame/Penn State game. Flew to Chicago on Friday, took the train to the Bend, I'm all fired up and ... realized my friends were hanging out at the house on Friday. Ok, ok, I don't need to go out every night of the weekend I s'pose, and then there's that whole when in Rome thing. 'Course, I made up for it on Saturday.

Hey, so I met a girl this weekend! She's beautiful, funny, smart and everything was going great, until she asked me one of those impossible to answer questions. I can't figure out how to embed this friggin' thing, but if you click on her picture, it should play.



  


That's right ... she asked my why I'm not a daddy. Fortunately, 5 year old girls have the attention span of ... well ... me, so she soon forgot about the question. Then she remembered it again later. Newman! So, I mulled over a few answers:

- Lauren Holly keeps losing my number
- The adult relationship world is a little more complicated than walking up to a girl at recess and pulling her pigtails ... although I might have to try that one
- Kids are the Anti-Christ ... ok, I know that's not true, and I really like kids, but maybe I could get her to ask her parents what the Anti-Christ is and I'd be off the hook
- I'm gay ... mmm, no, there are gay Daddys ... I mean, Tom Cruise has a child
- I might already have kids ... mmm, that would've opened a HUGE can of worms, and I'm not sure I'm ready to go on Maury Povich, anyway

So, I settled for some mumbled thing about how I hadn't met the right person yet, and that when you have the Playboy Channel, you don't need kids. Heh. Ok, I left the second part out, but after my answer I got THIS beauty, and I cannot tell you how many times I've seen a female type person say something like this:



  


Indeed. What the heck AM I all about? So, I spent the rest of the weekend trying to figure that one out. Eh, who am I kidding? I got waffled instead!

Got up early on Saturday. Game time was 3:30, so the tailgate started at 10:00. So, as I'm jumping rope for my workout, I'm telling myself over and over that I'm not going to start drinking until noon. When you drink the Captain, it's never a good idea to start before noon.

Started drinking at 10:30. Yes, I lack willpower. I'm pretty sure that was established long ago. Let's move on.

During the tailgate, the college kids next to us shotgunned a beer or two. 'Course, when they did it, both of my friends kids were sitting with me, so I got to explain what they were doing.

Kid #1: Um, what are they doing?
Me: Shotgunning a beer. See, you put a hole in the bottom of the can, pop the top, and drink the whole thing as fast as possible.
Kid #2: Why?
Me: Hmm ... it's a silly thing to do. Who doesn't like silly? Silly is fun!
Kid #1: It sure does seem silly.
Me: [drinking heavily and sweating]

I also taught one of the two how to do the peace sign. Very important stuff, that.

Game time was awesome. I haven't been to a college game in some time, and I haven't been to the Mecca of college football, Notre Dame, in a few years. It's impossible to describe. I had a camera, my phone, and none of those devices can even come close to capturing the electricity of walking into that place.

Unfortunately, the game was a blowout. The Irish ran all over PSU. Ugly stuff, especially since I was somewhat neutral - I like both programs.

Here's where it gets comical. When we hit the liquor store the night before, I decided against "the handle" when I bought the bottle of Captain, because I was going to be the only one drinking it. If you don't know what "the handle" is, check out the biggest Captain bottle next time you're in the store and you'll get it.

Problem is, a beautiful young lass shows up to the tailgate, and she wants some Captain. Hey, I may be dumb, but I'm not stupid, doncha know. Drink on! So, when I decide to leave the game, I realize I need more booze. STAT! Here's the convo with my friend:

Me: Um, I need to get more Captain. Where's the closest liquor store?
He: Are you sure you need more? We're going to go back to the tailgate for a bit then probably go home.
Me: [trying not to laugh at the suggestion that I wouldn't need more Captain]
He: We'll watch the Ohio State game at the house ...
Me: [crossed arms and tapping foot]
He: [sigh] Ok, here are directions to the liquor store ...

It gets better. My friend Bill is at the tailgate, and he's similar to me ... late 30s, tall, single, dashingly handsome, hilarious, charming, brilliant. Oops, went a bit overboard there. We're not that tall. Heh. Bill's a lawyer in Chicago, and we decide to hit the town once we realize that Ohio State rules Texas. We walk into this place, and I swear the ratio is 99 to 1 guys to girls. It's like my worst nightmare. As a bonus, there are 6 attractive women in the place ... and they're all behind the bar. The impossible pickup.

This is where Bill gets the gold star for Genius Idea of the Century. He notes that with the time change, we can be back in Chicago and out at bars at midnight.

I mulled this over for a good 0.7 seconds ... to Chicago!

Arrived right around midnight, freshened up and hit the bars. The rest of the night is somewhat blurry, but I do remember some minor kissing skills practice and Mexican food that was so spicy my vision was blurred. Eh, who am I kidding ... I'm sure my vision was already blurred anyway.

So, on the flight back, I got a free upgrade to first class. Score! Now, I realize this might be a shock to ya'll, being that I'm an international playboy and model/spokesmodel/fluffernutter, but I've never flown first class before. It was quite cool ... except I didn't get any mofo cookies and I didn't sit next to a model. Friggin' Seinfeld, ruining my image of first class!