On Friday night I met Brian and Lorinda out to watch the red team beat the blue team. (You can really tell that I really cared about this one, huh?) We were at the red team�s designated bar, so it was packed. Remind me not to do that again.

Each time someone scored, someone would jump up in celebratory bounces and spill their beer on me. I guess had I swallowed myself some of the barley beverage, I wouldn�t have minded so much. Alas, Friday was not a drinking night.

Afterwards we went to John Barleycorn where I found out that it was also not a dancing night.

Woe is me.

However, to my excitement, Brian noticed my guns. Apparently there is something to see as a result of my working out. He asked if I had tickets (to the gun show [FLEX]), mice (to feed these pythons [FLEX]), or directions to Muscle Beach (that way [FLEX]). I was quite pleased.

And just as that was my reward for working out last month, he also got his too. On my account, Brian hooked up with a cute chick in striped pants. I had to question the look, but anyone�s better than his almost-ex-girlfriend.

Why is that I say almost-ex? They just haven�t talked in so long that it�s hard to officially break up without giving notice. She didn�t make it to the NYE party, thus cementing their fate.

It�s okay. She was too much of a homebody anyway. Brian wouldn�t settle for weekends spent having more Blockbuster nights than he has hangovers.

Hopefully this sexual karma is all in my direction -- Whee!

I spent Saturday doing stuff around the place. Roomba is doing well, thanks for asking. Ming got a bath and now smells like Herbal Essences shampoo. She�s also really, really soft, and it makes me wonder what she�d be like if I conditioned her. I also made bread that turned out tasting like crap. Nothing to report here, really.

On Saturday night K and I headed up to this bowling alley that had an hour and a half wait time for a lane. Whereas neither of us has problems entertaining ourselves of each other, an hour and a half to bowl was pushing it without just going and making out in the car or something.

We parked back in my hood and went to ESPN zone for what turned out to be an ass-kicking. And before you laugh, assuming that I was the one who got their tush tanned, point that finger over to K and deliver a Nelson-style Hah-hah.

Apparently I rule the school at both air hockey and basketball [grin]

Now I�m looking for other sports and games to dominate, further making him my bitch.

Remember last week when I asked K to come up with a pseudonym? Well, he suggested Fuckles the Clown, Cap�n Azz, or Slappy. Like when the old character Herbie tried to make his name Holy Grail of Cocks, K�s been shut down. I�m considering calling him Enrique because it sounds so exotic and sexy. I�ll even paste a mole on him and have him sing to me in an accent.

Yeah, K. That�s what you get when you make silly suggestions for your pseudonym.

Oh wait! Oh wait! Oh wait! Since K *loves* my pirate jokes,

Q: How much did the pirate pay to get his ears pierced?
A: A buccaneer!

and he wants to be Cap�n something-or-other, he�s getting a pirate name. One moment while I google, please.

All right. Here we go. Benito it is.

Sticking with the foreign flair, K will henceforth be called Benito.

Now that that�s settled, your regular entry continues.

We finished the night with pretzels and beer at Rock Bottom, and I retired to my bed late in the evening.

This time last year I came down with this odd affliction where I�d sleep all day Sunday, in a way making up for all of the sleep I missed over the week. I�d wake up at 5 p.m. feeling a-okay, would eat an excessive amount of dinner and get some stuff done, and then I�d head back to sleep at my regular hour.

Yesterday I slept until 5 p.m. and had all the same feelings as I did this time last year.

I ate four -- count �em -- FOUR bowls of Apple Jacks.

Side note: Did you know that they changed the shape of the cereal? The green O�s are now in the shape of jacks, making the cereal and hodgepodge of X�s and O�s. Seriously, my first thought after pouring a bowl was, �Aww! Kellogg�s loves me!�

After the four bowls of lovey-dovey cereal, I had two servings of spaghetti.

Mind you, I�m a mini me. This is a lot of food.

After feeding time was up for this animal, I did some post-holiday cleaning, bill paying, and other boring stuff. Mind you, I did manage to avoid washing dishes and scooping the litterbox -- something I later regretted.

Not the dish-washing, mind you. I have enough bowls to feed my entire floor of neighbors. Also, I�m basically out of Apple Jacks anyway.

Apparently one of the cats has the drizzly shits, and he or she has made quite a mess of the box. I didn�t have time to clean it this morning, so I closed the door to my bedroom to protect my 300 tc goodness and Ralph Lauren goose down comforter, laid a sheet on my exceptionally nice couch, and left the toilet seat up in case it�s Ming with the runny rear end and Hambone would like to relieve himself elsewhere.

I did a brown eye inspection on each cat, and there was no tell-tale sign as the to digestive delinquent. I�m pretty sure it�s Ming though. I have no problems blaming her, anyway.

That rotten Ming...

...and her flowery-scented goodness!

All right. I must get back to work now. Have a good one.�