Yes, yes, I'm well aware that it's been some time since I've done this. I couldn't help it - I haven't done anything dumb in so long! Ok, stop laughing.

Before I start, Charlie Sexton, the song is called "Gospel." Go get it. Right now. I'll wait.

I'm just going to go with the highlights since the last blog. I think I have two. That's right, two things have happened in two months. Pipe down.

So, there's this hottie that I have this sort of drinking competition thing going on with. It's a little hard to describe, and I'm not sure how it even started, but it's done via text message, and there are very few rules. So, right around Christmas, I sent her a text on Saturday morning, claiming my victory the night before. I didn't do anything significant, I just like to win. The response back was something like this:

I stole a yard reindeer last night. That should count for something.

So, needless to say, I lost that one. I'd have to steal one of those shiny bowling balls or something to top that. Who can top a yard reindeer?

New Year's Eve was an interesting night. How many times do I have to tell you people that 7 am is a really, really bad bedtime? You never listen. Wait, I never listen. Well, SOMEONE'S not listening!

At around the time the clock struck midnight, I was at a party that was hecka boring. You know when there are 2 pregnant women at a party, and we're talking basketballs under their shirts pregnant, there aren't going to be kegstands and stripper poles. Naturally, I came up with something to pass the time.

I managed to get my hands on a camera. Now, before you start jumping to conclusions, I didn't take any pictures of body parts or myself in compromising positions with farm animals. They were all very nice pictures with people posing in nice poses and acting nice. It was like a Brady Bunch episode. Only thing was, I had two girls kissing in the background of each picture. HAHA! Suckers.

Spent this past weekend in Florida. Good times. Met up with my good friend Lori and a couple of buddies from DC that were down there for a wedding. I basically crashed the fun parts of the wedding - the party after the rehearsal dinner and the party after the wedding. So, we're in somebody's hotel room at one party, and I'm dancing with this young lass. She goes to talk to a friend and when she comes back, I'm sitting down on a chair doing lines from Pulp Fiction with my friends.

Oh, you're sending the Wolf? Shoot, Negro, that's all you had to say!
I got my technique down and everything. I don't be ticklin' or nothing.
Oh, I'm sorry. Did I break your concentration?
Prank caller! Prank caller!

You know, the usual guy nonsense. I think we were doing the lines for about 7 hours that night. Some people discuss important topics, we rehash quotes from movies that we've seen hundreds of times. Genius! Anyway, she comes over, and I slap my knee for her to have a seat. Here's our exchange:

She: I can't sit on your knee. That's not allowed. I have a boyfriend.
Me: You have a boyfriend?
She: Yeah, he's over there [points].
Me: So, dancing is allowed, but sitting on my knee isn't?
She: That's right.
Me: What about sleeping with me? Is that allowed?

Needless to say, that was pretty much the end of the conversation.

Had a very cool walk back to my hotel along the beach. A storm was rolling in, so half of the sky was pitch black, and the other half was starry and somewhat lit. Does it get better than the beach at night? Hell no.