Jack Didley's VIP Ouroboros

Though a few people 'liked' my Facebook status that was akin to the title of this post, I fear that not many of you are familiar with the ouroboros. It's the ancient snake-eats-tail symbol that's been interpreted as everything from the Wheel of Time to the phoenix to the cyclic nature of existence. I became most familiar with it via the [Title of Show] show, or t[ToS]s. By the end of this post, you'll understand our current relationship with the great ouroboros.

The only "nightclub" that we've experienced since moving to Eastern Washington is a local gem known as Jack Didley's. While locals have a hard time NOT hearing about how cheap drinks are at JD's on the radio (seriously, most specials are $1), our very first experience at the club was when Annie insisted that we go enter their Halloween costume contest. I won the male division. Annie won the female division. For winning, each of us were given $25 cash and a certificate for a free VIP party for 18 people at JD's in the following 90 days. So, we had 2 VIP parties to use. Had it not been for them forcing us to come back with these VIP party passes, I'm not sure that we would have ever returned. We're just too old to club in a 'small city'...

Though it took a few weeks to actually contact them, I was able to snag the heavily sought-after Ultra VIP seating area for last Friday, the 13th, in order to celebrate Annie's upcoming First Annual 29th Birthday Party. Since we depart for Tahoe this Friday, this past weekend was our last weekend in WA in 2013. I made a Facebook event, invited everyone who's profile said they were near 'Richland, WA', and said that the first 16 people that RSVP would get wristbands, while the rest that want to come would have to hang out on the dance floor with the other peasants. (We ended up bringing everybody we knew in the VIP area, because nobody gives a fuck at JD's.)

The very-classy Ultra VIP lounge's center-piece was, fittingly, a stripper pole. Nothing like eating a fancy Frost Me 'fetti cupcake-cake off of a stripper pole (with Woodford Reserve horse racing napkins):

Merry Birthday, Annie!

Well, some time around 1am, the mic guy (he's not the DJ, he's really just worthless and walks around yelling inaudible things into the mic all night) cleared the dance floor (and the elevated levels of stripper poles) for a dance-off. As the current King of JD's, I felt obligated to participate. I climbed to the top, danced the shit out of that place, and was asked to come back for the Finals, an epic battle of the sexes.

Then, it was the ladies' turn. Let's be real, for a minute. This was the saddest group of dancing ladies I've ever seen collected on a small stage. They all looked either roofie'd or rolling on E, humping the stage or the mirrors or the poles like a pack of horny chihuahuas. A few looked like they had itchy butts and were trying to drag them across the stage in order to scratch themselves. I cheered loudly for a particularly rhythm-deficient chubby girl, knowing she would be easy pickin' when it came to the final. Through a sad chorus of cricket chirps, a female finalist was selected. (Seriously, if you're the guy that came with a lady dancing on stage, it's your responsibility to cheer for her. Don't leave her up there in shame at an awkward silence.)

Then, it was time for me to shine. Rob vs Didley's Skank. Though she tried to woo the audience with her stripper moves, she had no chance against my ability to gyrate and shimmy every part of my body. She even tried to get up on me (slapping me in the face with her desperate flailing), but she was no match. The crowd voted, and the noise level made the decision quite clear. The King shall remain in his throne. I've heard that I looked very similar to this:

Annie made sure to point out afterward that it was not just our VIP section going crazy, the whole club loved it. One of the girls in our party even commented, "Even our boyfriends are cheering for Rob." Never underestimate my ability to not care at all how I look in public.

And what did they have for the winner? A VIP party for 18 people at Jack Didley's! (Where was the $25 this time?)

So, every time I go to Jack Didley's now, it's for a VIP Party. Also, every time I go to Jack Didley's, I win a VIP Party.

...and the snake eats its tail,
~RoB

P.S. The bartender at Didley's was the second person I've spoken to since meeting them as Miley Cyrus, and both people had no clue who I was, dressed in boy clothes and looking all normal...

Birthday Party: Part 2 - Nightlife

At this point, my birthday was almost 3 months ago.  That's how pathetic my blogging has become.  But dammit, I led you on, so here's the rest of the story.  The celebration of my birthday this year began with a wine crawl.

After dinner, Annie and I returned home, only to be picked up by two of our friends and dragged downtown to a club.  We started at Hugos.  The dance floor was smaller than I expected, but in general, there was more room than I'm used to at a bar.  I got a little drink on, a little dance on, and I apparently took pictures with strange men (note:  not a gay bar).

I don't know these guys. Not sure why he's touching me, but that last guy is Pitbull.

See, it's the same person.

I was wearing what I previously referred to as my 'lucky shirt' (it did nothing for me at the horse races, so it's now just a shirt).  I decided I needed to start unbuttoning to show people how cool my shirt was.

I was taking off my shirt. Annie was trying to stop me.

If you recognize that shirt, then you probably hung out with me in New Jersey for the summer of 2007.  Other than that, only one person has recognized it.  It happened at my favorite Champagne Brunch in L.A.  The guy who recognized it knew the people that produced the webseries, took a pic of me wearing it, and shook my hand.  Here's the show:

Anyway, we then progressed to Skybar.  The name sounded very cool and L.A.  However, it was just a lounge.  I continued to dance, even though I was the only one.  I continued to drink, too, though I was not the only one.  I'll probably never go back to Skybar, but I'm not upset for trying it out.  It was really cool to see how busy downtown Lexington gets at night on the weekends.  It's the most people I've seen walking around downtown since moving here.

The night ended, conveniently, at the iHop that's pretty much across the street from our house.  Downside:  there was a pretty long wait to get a table.  It was almost 3am.  Apparently, all drunken Lexingtonians had the same thought in mind.  We all wanted to eat so that we woke up the next morning.  I love me some stuffed french toast from iHop, so I was gonna wait however long it required for me to stuff them into my face.  Annie may or may not have zonked out while sitting in the booth.

Since my life is awesome, this wasn't quite the last interesting thing to happen.  Some bitches sitting behind Annie and our friend decided to stand up and tell us to stop pounding on the booth.  The girl that I was sitting next to, part of our crew, is about 6'6" and looks like she could kick all of our asses.  She asked me to let her out of the booth so that she could single-handedly fuck up this whole group, but I wouldn't.

Those bitches are lucky I didn't want to end my birthday party in jail,
~RoB

"Where's the Schnapps?"

One reason that our recent Michigan trip was so long was because I was a groomsman in a wedding for 2 of my closest high school friends.  They started dating sporadically the summer after high school (I like to think I had a big part in them getting together), and now they're married!!  It was a fun wedding to return home for, and I thought I'd detail some of the more interesting points of the whole proceedings.

Angela Gerber Photography

It started 2 nights before the wedding, when I went with the groom and his family to pick up our tuxes.  At one point, the fine chap whose store we were renting tuxes from offered us beers while we were trying on the rentals.  The groom and I laughed it off, yelling outside that people should drink up.  It tuns out that the guy was politely standing outside of the dressing rooms speaking only to us, and nobody heard him offer beers.  So, we kind of unknowingly ignored him, which is way awkward retrospectively.  The groom's father also made some comment about how gay the guy was.  Well, at some point, guy had his hands all up in my slacks trying to fix the fitting, so that image entertained dad very much.

The next night was the rehearsal.  I'm pretty sure it's the smallest, country-est church Annie has ever seen, let alone been in.  The quote of that night was "the organist couldn't be here because he's pulling wheat."  Classic farmtown convo.  The Best Man is the groom's much younger brother, who was hidden from us for most of his childhood.  He really likes me, as the person that made it out of Monroe and all the way to L.A. He said he was freaking out about his speech, so I told him to send it to me, and I'd give him some feedback.

And the day of the wedding started quite usually.  We all met at the bride's grandfather's, since we'd be driving around in his classic cars to get to the ceremony and pictures.  It was in his driveway that a mosquito was caught sucking on my new tattoo.  It was also the first time that I got to go through their shed of classic/antique (mostly Nash) automobiles.  It was pretty cool.  Oh, and one of my best friends who missed the rehearsal and all of the plans due to another wedding showed up already in his tux.  We'll call him G-raffe.  The rest of us had our tuxes at the church, and we were planning on going out to breakfast in comfortable clothes.

So, we all sat at Bob Evans and had breakfast, alongside one of us in a full tux.

On the way to the church, we realized G-raffe had brought a flask, but didn't fill it yet.  So, in a line of classic cars, we had to try and figure a way to get to a liquor store without the rest of the procession following us.  We managed to pull off with only one person following (bride's father, whom we told that G-raffe had to pee really bad), but the place only sold wine and beer.  Not acceptable.  So, instead, we drove to the church, dropped off dad, accidentally missed the driveway, and drove to another nearby party store to fill the flask with rum.  We claimed we were just showing off the car.

Skip ahead 2 hours.  We're all tuxed up.  All of us, this time.  The groom's mother walks in with smelling salts.  She's really worried that the Best Man is going to drop in the middle of the ceremony.  So I stuck one in my inside pocket, in hopes of saving the day if Best Man goes down.  Then we're off taking a ton of photos, like this:

We finished and headed off in a shaded area with picnic tables, behind a big wall blocking us from the parking lot and church.  G-raffe pulls out the flask, swigs, passes it to me, I swig, and then nobody else would even touch it (don't even get me started on the utter lameness of half of these guys).  That was until the groom's dad came rolling around the corner.  "Where's the Schnapps?"  I'm pretty sure he didn't know that we were flasked up, but it was a classic line, well-deserving of some rum.  The bride's dad may or may not have partaken, also.  The groom's dad went on to tell us about how he got pulled over on the way there this morning.  The cop ended up following him all the way to the church to confirm that he wasn't lying, but it's really no surprise.  The groom is always late, and has a plethora of speeding tickets, so I could see it being a little genetic.

The wedding was great, but really hot up in that full tux.  It was so ridiculously hot in Monroe for the first weekend of October, and I was dripping mid-ceremony.  At the end, I poked G-raffe and asked him if I had white stuff around my lips.  It always happens when I get really dehydrated.  He just looked at my lips with 'what the fuck?' face, which meant I did, so I had to vigorously wipe them on my sleeve before walking down the aisle.  I also spent the first 2 minutes of the ceremony trying not to giggle.  Something about uber serious situations does that to me.  I picture the maid of honor letting off a little toot, or the flower girl falling over, and then it's 5 minutes of me trying to keep my shit together.  I also may or may not have grabbed G-raffe's ass a few times.  And 'swiped a credit card'.  ;)

Throughout the pictures afterward, we had to keep returning to my rental car to 'check on the baby'.  I had stolen a cooler from the ringbearer (they stuffed it with is lunch) and had filled it with pre-mixed Jack 'n Cokes.  We shoved G-raffe and the bride's cousin, we'll call her Lately, in the rental, and Annie drove our slowly-getting-intoxicated asses back to the bride's grandfolk's and then on to the reception.  Not before I peed in an ancient outhouse at the grandparent's.  (They have plumbing, but it's there as a shout out to old times.)

We showed up to the wedding in fine shape.  And here's where things got interesting.  Open bar?  Yes please.  We continued to drink.  At no point was I really drunk, or anywhere near black-out like I had been at the last wedding I was in.  (Sorry, B&G!)  The Best Man won the speech battle.  I really thought the maid of honor was going to pull out all the stops (since she's super smart and competitive), but with the help of my speech, he kicked her ass.  #winning

At some point, somebody handed G-raffe a microphone and asked him to say a few words.  He kind of freaked out, thinking it was to the whole audience.  So, he called over Lately and I.  What a trio we were.  I'm pretty sure I detailed some things on that video that should have never been spoken aloud.  (Sorry, B&T!)  Then, on the spot, Nate and I made up a song and sang it, straight outta 'Whose Line is it...'.  I can't wait to see that.  It's gotta be epic.

Then Lately went on to steal the blog-worthy show.  At one point she was retelling an incident between her and an aunt of hers, who asked about G-raffe.  Her response was, "Yeah, I blew him like 10 years ago, but there's nothing there now."  She didn't know, but the bride's mother was standing behind her.  And Lately is far from quiet.  The bride's mother escorted Lately out to the hallway for a little 'picture'.  Lately had another great moment later where she was detailing how the flower girl was all hyped up on sugar and going crazy while we were trying to eat... or something.  The flower girl's mom was within earshot, and dragged the flower girl over to Lately to apologize.  Which was all kinds of awkward.  Lately begged the flower girl's mom (by the way, the bride's new sister-in-law) not to force her daughter to apologize.  That it really was no big deal.  The mom skulked off, but she sat at the main table with pissed off face for a while.  Nice job, Lately.

G-raffe & Lately may or may not be shown here, in the bottom left.  I'm the top right.

Other notable moments from the night were my dancing.  This blog set me up for really high expectations on the dance floor.  I feel like I fulfilled them.  There was one moment where I was in the center of a big circle gettin' jiggy wit it.  And killing it, if I do say so myself.  But when I danced my way to the edge of the circle, in came a green man.  Straight out of 'It's Always Sunny...', totally stealing my thunder.  It was entertaining, but scorned I remain.  There was also a fun moment in the photo booth with G-raffe where I was pantsless in a half-assed attempt at reenacting the creepy, tucked, mirror scene from Silence of the Lambs.

I guess there is one other quote that's worth mentioning.  An old female rival (both voted Smartest in 8th grade), whom we'll call Moo Mist, made this comment about the Best Man, who as I've mentioned we were hidden from for so many years.  "I mean, him and the groom look nothing like each other.  I'd fuck Best Man.  I mean, not that the groom is ugly..."  Paraphrased, but pretty spot on.

And I think that's about all I'm allowed to publish about it online.  Anyone seen that video yet?

Congrats, again, B&T!
~RoB

Royal Wedding - Day 2

If you haven't already, you should catch up with us so far by reading about Day 1.

I woke up with a little bit of a hangover.  For me, that means I'm super, duper hungry and I have to poop.  I don't throw up, I'm not out for the count, I may need a nap, but in general it's just that I need protein and some bathroom time.  However, the after effects lasted longer than I'm used to (into the early afternoon), which makes me feel like I'm getting old.  I've been told (by this girl) that we have harder and harder times rebounding as we get older, and I'm starting to believe it.

So, that first Jack&Coke at around 1:50pm didn't go down so well.  Why was I drinking at 2pm?  Well, we were at a Nebraska fan sports bar watching football.  In full Michigan garb.  Our game was about to begin.  Wait, weren't we in NE for a wedding today?  Yeah, but people keep scheduling their damn weddings on football Saturdays, so you have to work in some football whenever possible.  Anyway, the double Jack&Coke (it was only $1 more) didn't taste very good.  However, all of the shitty bar food that we devoured did, so it worked.  Though we were the clear minority, everyone was really nice, and most of the football on the TVs was going our way, so we just enjoyed.

Skip ahead to a trolley that was taking us from the Hilton to the church.  The church was cute and tucked into downtown.  Overall, the wedding felt super fancy schmance (word?).  It made me remember how different people dress between the two coasts.  A tie is pretty formal for a Northern Californian, and it was the extent of my outfit.  Yet, I was the only man not in a suit at the church.  (Heck, I had sneakers on.  There was dancing to be done later.)  It was the fastest ceremony that I can remember, and the preacher/minister/pastor/deacon? was pretty entertaining.  It was over, we were standing in the courtyard ready to throw petals, the bride and groom came out and loaded the party bus, and then the progression to the wedding needed to be figured out.

This was the most awkward part of the weekend.  The whole wedding party loaded the bus.  Then all the hip, young kids loaded it.  Everyone that Annie and I knew was on the bus.  Yet, there was a substantial group of people still loitering outside of the church, mostly the bride's family.  So, we just waited around for some sort of group motion toward the reception, by some mode of transportation.  I was positive that the reception was just a block away.  I kept pointing at the building I thought it was.  Eventually, we reloaded the trolley and made it to the reception without any problems (I was wrong and glad I didn't drag Annie to the wrong place).  However, there were a good 10-15 minutes of Annie and Rob standing around awkwardly and alone.

The beginning of the reception was a cocktail hour with, yet again, another open bar.  We met up with a friend from MI and proceeded to 'try' all of the appetizers that we're being served.  Some were 'tried' more than once.  Shit didn't get real until we walked into the ballroom though.  It was like walking into the new Aria in Vegas.  A huge chandelier winds down from the ceiling with the 6?-tiered cake centered beneath it.  It was beautiful and impressive.  There were so many money signs floating through my head.  (I'd be lying if I didn't say that I kept thinking about all of the money going by at every step of the process.  It didn't make me any more excited to get married one day.)

S&N initials were found everywhere.  It was a lesson in advertising.

Eating, drinking, first dances, cake cutting...  Finally, it was time.  I had told some of the locals about my dancing experience and how I was a Zumba instructor.  It was time to show off.  So I did.  I danced a ton for the rest of the night.  Whenever in similar situations, I have to take regular breaks for water and to wipe down my sweaty body.  (It's always a fun game hiding water glasses and napkins from the wait staff so that I can continue to use them... while they're told to pick them up.)  The Cupid Shuffle came on 2nd or 3rd, and I got called out by the DJ.  "I'd follow the guy in the tie."  I'm the guy in the tie.  There was one other guy there I saw swing dancing with his mother... or something, but he was my only competition.  It was all about ->this guy<-.

I danced with the bride's mother, an aunt, the groom's mom, heck... everyone.  Some dudes, too.  At one point I was starting to wind down (and the music wasn't helping), when a middle-aged woman approached me.  "I just wanted to let you know that you have quite an audience; you need to keep going.  You've been winding down a little, and I thought I'd let you know we're all watching you now."  Then she returned to her group along one of the walls.  This was right on par with the group of white guys standing by my table that fist-pounded me at one point when I was returning to my table for the water/napkin routine.

I've never Soul Trained.  There was talk, but it never got pulled off.  I was also told that I should try a back flip off of the main table.  I considered it, but Annie called me stupid and brought me back down to Earth.  At one point, a girl grabbed the mic and thought it was drunken karaoke time.  (This same girl had an epic moment where she fell in front of the bride and groom later that night in the hotel, was picked up by the groom, and started to be escorted back to her room before one of her friends found her and yelled at her for being dealt with by the bride and groom on their wedding night.  When the bride was telling the story the next morning, it sounded like a dream... but it wasn't.  It was hilarious.)

The reception ended at midnight.  We all lit sparklers to escort the bride and groom out.  Then, the cool, hip kids progressed to a late-night pizza parlor and sports bar.  Nothing significant happened after that, and we progressed back to the hotel without hitting any bars, and we went to bed at a reasonable hour.  Oh, we did have to walk by a mural twice during this portion of the night.  There was a creepy girl painted that stared into your soul, no matter where you were standing.  It still kind of haunts me.

The girl under the arrow.  I picked a weird angle so that she doesn't invade your dreams.

I woke up feeling spectacular.  That didn't appear to be the case for most of the other participants.  They apparently didn't burn the alcohol off by dancing like the rest of us.  There was one last group brunch before we all split to head home.

So, that was the wedding.  I really don't know if I could handle the attention that a bride and groom get for a whole day.  I'm happy enough blogging for attention, where I don't have to make eye contact or small talk or "practice hugging short people".  This was, hands down, the fanciest wedding I'll ever attend.  I'm very happy that I was able to be there for the bride and groom, and they seemed very happy to have us travel so far to share it with them.  I'm also happy that I met a bunch of new people that I very much enjoyed, and I've already started my Facebook pursuit of all of their friendships... for stalking at a later date.

Yet another wedding this weekend in Oakland!
~RoB

The last day in Omaha is summarized here.

First Date w/ Annie

Today is the 20th Wedding Anniversary of my aunt and uncle.  I thought this would be a perfect opportunity to give you an unedited [though name-censored] look at my digital journal documenting my first date with Annie.  I wrote it exactly like this, the night it happened.  Don't worry, it doesn't go very well.  Crazy how things happen.  This whole incident happened the first weekend of November, in 2003 (yeah, 8 years ago).  Technically, that's the only date we can trace our relationship back to, since we never claimed we were dating until years later.  Enjoy my stream of consciousness, in all of its awkwardness:

Ok, so maybe I did like her.  Of course I am not going to admit it.  She’s cute, and she obviously has a taste in guys that’s a little out of my spectrum.  Well, I helped her with her homework… for every assignment in engin101.  We hung out almost every day.  It came down to just talking and playing cards.  One time I just sat with her while she studied and tried coloring.  I didn’t really need to color, and I suck at it, but it was a reason to ‘chill’ with her.  We started the stereotypical picking on each other.  It was like we were in middle school, but it was fun.  Still, I didn’t do anything.  I thought of her like Jill, a sister, and that I should keep it professional… hands off.  I tried so hard not to have feelings for her; I was not going to get burned again.  Last night when we were working on her assignment, she was chatting with her friend on AIM and she let me read everything.  I found out that she had already dated one of the drummers while being up here.  He is extremely good looking and she said that he turned out to be a real asshole.  Then she started talking about all of these other guys that would be nice to date.  At this point I am a platonic friend, so I listened, I even agreed and joked about it.  Actually, I was hurt.  I just wanted to leave.  I usually stayed with her studying until like 2, even though my regular bedtime is midnight.  Last night, I left at midnight.  I don’t even think that her homework was right.  Then comes tonight.
            Earlier in the week when we were hanging out, I invited her to trumpet progressive.  It’s this big trumpet section party.  I figured it would be fun to hang out with her, I knew she liked to drink.  I don’t drink, but if she wants to that’s cool.  Not that I would try and take advantage of her, but I might be able to find out if she likes me once she gets a little loose.  After all, her friends made it sound like she liked me.  I was walking up to her at dinner and Michelle whispered out of the side of her mouth “Here comes Rob” and smiled.  I am pretty sure that I shouldn’t know that, but I catch on to things like that.  Also, Terran knew the whole story about trumpet Prog before I even mentioned it.  Annie had already told everyone.  So we go to Prog.  Everyone keeps referring to her as my date.  I really didn’t mind, but being the gentleman that I am, I corrected everyone to make sure that it was clear that we were just friends and I was just her ticket to a good party.  So we make it to the final huge party.  Huge dance floor, and I know I can dance.  This was my chance, I knew I could get her to start dancing and have a blast.  Well, I knew she could dance since we swung dance together for like 2 hours a little less than a month ago.  However, she doesn’t really dance.  I was all over the floor; I love to dance.  She claims that she couldn’t dance.  One time she was out on the floor and I snuck up behind her and started freaking her.  It was all in fun, but she pulled away and kind of quit.  Ok, so she wasn’t comfortable, I gave up.  So we hung out every once in a while when she wasn’t drinking or hanging out with other people, but she stopped coming around more and more, and started hanging with Dave.  Dave Tenerelli the Italian Stallion, he is the amazing trumpet player and hot guy that got picked up by a junior girl in the first 2 weeks.  Ok, so they are hanging out, maybe they know each other outside of her.
            Next thing I remember, Annie and Dave freaking and necking out on the floor.  Too good for me, huh?  Must not be too good to dance, she hasn’t drank anything since she was out on the dance floor with me, but she seems to be fine freaking him.  Ok, I need to just stop watching.  It’s just one dance I’m overreacting.  So I tried having fun.  Didn’t happen, they disappeared.  I went outside to get some fresh air; I figured that would help.  Nope, they were out there with a group of people.  She walked back inside without saying anything.  I met up with some friends and headed off to go get some subs.  I asked her if she wanted to go or if she wanted anything.  She said no to both.  That’s cool, I was gone for like a half hour and came back.  The party had kind of cleared out, but they were sure out there on the dance floor freaking.  We waited around for like 10 minutes and decided that a bunch of us were going to leave.  Now, the terms of her coming were that she had to promise to leave with me.  I knew she was going to be drinking and I did not want feel responsible for leaving drunken Annie in the hands of a bunch of drunken trumpets.  So I went up and asked her if she wanted to leave with us.
She told me to hold on a second and stuck her first finger up in the air.  She walked away for a minute.  She came back into the room freaking Dave right in front of me… she managed to mouth “I’m staying” to me from where she was.  Obviously, she just got all too caught up in what was going on to walk over to me and talk to me.  What a bitch.

Retrospectively, I'm an 11-yr-old girl.

So Happy 20th Anniversary, aunt and uncle!  And Annie, way to be an ass from the beginning.
~RoB

Pimpmones

Yesterday, I went over to Annie's uncle's house to use some of his power tools.  The projects (yes, plural!) that I'm working on will be featured later this month (get excited!).  Anyway, I spent all day Sunday doing things by hand.  I was sore and getting whiny.  So, I had Annie call around and see if anybody had a circular saw and a Dremel.

Back to the point, yesterday I used a circular saw on plywood and managed to assemble two hinged/collapsible wooden objects that I designed.  I got to use sawhorses, a power screwdriver, a hacksaw, and a Dremel.  By the time Annie showed up to get me, I was in a rippling, hairy-chested man-frenzy.

Yes, me.  The wine-sipping, beer-hating, musical-loving, ballroom dancer felt super manly.  My man-hormones (I'm officially dubbing the word pimpmones; get that sh*t on UrbanDictionary stat!) were raging.  As soon as I got home I was flexing my muscles in bed, which led to DIWMGf.

I'm waiting to stub my toe and be returned to reality.

I made one huge discovery in going from manual to power tools.  You've heard the old adage, but it has changed:
Before power tools: 'Measure twice, cut once.'
After power tools: 'Measure once, screw it!'  (you can quickly redo the whole darn thing if you need to)

I discovered this after screwing up one of my drill-holes by 1/4", something I would have never done when I was methodically taking my time and manually screwing each screw in.

My pimpmones be flowin',
~RoB

P.S. Ewww, I don't actually have a hairy chest.

Role Reversal

Annie: We're going Dancing!

Rob: enthusiastically Really, where?

Annie: You do realize I mean Michigan Basketball made the NCAA Tournament, right?

Rob: disappointed Oh.  Yeah...   Of Course!..
                                                                                    Can you hold my purse?

I'm so manly,
~RoB