ROBIEWANKENOBIE

I had my faux birthday this past weekend, and it was fabulous timing. Two of my favorite ladies were also celebrating. We had a very low-key dinner at a local restaurant. I may possibly have embarrassed them a tad bit when we were told that they didn't have any whipped cream...someone suggested that we pop over to the grocery and get some...I may possibly have grabbed a can and brought it back over to the restaurant, but I maintain that it was her fault for suggesting it to me (she knows I have no shame).

The following night my Minnesotan brother and Mom came up to take me to dinner. There was much banter and a good time was had by all. Brother bought me a fabulous necklace that I've barely taken off. Okay, to be fair, that's partially because I have trouble manipulating the clasp (which he has no problem with, despite his amputated fingers...what's up with that?) but I don't mind wearing it 24/7 because it is just that rockstar.

There may have been a little vampire therapy to finish off the extravaganza.

Aside from that? Non-stop action around these parts. First off? Stomach virus. So, like, what kind of mojo does the leon have, anyway? How does he avoid ice storms and stomach viruses with his out of town jobstuffs? I do so hope that he isn't sacrificing young virgins. I mean, that's generally a hope of mine...that he's not sacrificing young virgins...but especially for this purpose.

Oh, hey, red herring...I must give a shout-out to the Liquor Barn. A hearty kudos to Wine Bob for telling me that the cheese pricing was part of their nefarious plan to get me to buy booze. A second note of appreciation to the feller who saw our balloon blow away in the parking lot, and ran out to give us a new one. Oh, and as a side note in the middle of a side note, I want to tell you just how awesome your comic timing is...when Wine Bob threw that balloon your way and you fell to the ground like that? We all bought it. You're hilarious.

And also? Hold on to your seat, Mary Jo, I've been reorganizing the pantry. Turns out that in the case of nuclear war, that we'd be subsisting on beans, peanut butter, smoked paprika, and wasabi, long after we had worked through our other foodstuffs. Holy multiples, Batman, that's a shit ton of wasabi in your arsenal.

I'm off for more illin' with the chillins'. Peace out!