Two days - that's how long I've sat on my couch with a computer on my lap. Yesterday this inactivity was due to getting completely shithammered this weekend while today's blame can only be laid on the sleeping pills I took to catch up on my winks. Those things never work. You can sleep for hours, but never feel rested. It's poetic justice without Tupac and Janet.

The middle half of last week was a bit of a wash. On Wednesday I cruised up to the stadium to see game two of the Yankee's series against Detroit, but Mother Nature threw a curve ball that found me sitting on a garbage can for two hours under the bleechers waiting for the umpires to call the game. Once Beach and I got back downtown we hit up the Japanese steak house to drown our sorrows in a delicious meal. On Thursday, Beach and I met outside the stadium for our second shot at game two. We were successful, but much to our dismay the Yankees weren't. This began the tailspin for the Boomers that now finds us firing the skipper which is completely out of control. I won't bore you with my broken heart. At least Notre Dame looked good this weekend.

Friday and Saturday were shitshows of epic proportions. I can't remember much so I'm not going to dig to deep. Friday I worked at Webster before running by Matt and Tumbleweed's house to watch the end of game three. Then I met Evan (who was celebrating his birthday) and we hit Local 138 where Darn, Karli, Christen, Rory and Kaila were dug in. From there we paraded with some of Evan's girlfriend's over to 2A, but on the way we saw one of the best things ever. There was a vagrant sitting on the ground with his back against The Hat and his feet pointing south. I was in front of the crew and noticed he had something that looked like a pile of fajitas on his crotch. Just as he was escaping my site line, he took another container of string beans and dumped it on his crotch. It was the coolest thing I've seen in awhile and just thought you should know.

Saturday Christy and I had a couple of drinks at Webster before heading to Ra Ra Riot who still got the goods despite the loss of their co-lead singer. They are a bunch of energetic kids who will do well once the blog world catches on. Afterwards, folks flooded into the club and we got rowdy. Next thing I know it's Sunday morning and Kyle is yelling at me in between his puke sessions because I kicked him in the nuts.

I need to grow up.