The “Evil” one was back in town this past weekend. Crafty of the bastard to plan a trip up when he knew there would be a big party (mine) going on Saturday. Dang. He still is a cutie even if he spouts comments that make the whole room shake their head in utter disgust. Maybe I handled it a little better this time around ’cause there was no drink in my system. Yep. You heard that right. I did not have one single drink the entire time (or the entire weekend for that matter). I really think it freaked some folks out that I wasn’t totally hammered or even starting on my way to being totally hammered. Late in the evening with the roomie passed out in the recliner, Jeff and “Evil” and I stood on the back deck and talked. “Evil” hates Florida. He mentioned this more that once as cool mountain air breezed down through the valley. “It’s hot. It’s flat. There nothing to do. I wish I could find a job and move back here. I never thought that I would think of the mountains as home.” Dumbass. You made your own bed …

I’m going to a chiropractor this afternoon to see what he thinks about my fucked up body. Whoo.