Puta Madre Stole My Cellphone!

What a weekend. Friday I watched a movie at the Player's house. Some sort of church propaganda film from the 70's that he kept pausing to add his own sadistic commentary. Comedy at it's finest. Saturday-Meet the Bloggers was a riot. I missed my 2 beer limit by about 5 shots of Jäger. Needless to say I was 3 sheets to the wind. I remember everything but admit nothing. Thanks to youse who are bearing the brunt of my "broken hearted self destructive" phase. I do not however take back anything I may or may not have said to/about Minnesota. That disrespectful bastard can rot and die for all I care! Let's see, it was the first time I had seen Doo Doo Brown since his new year's eve mischief. I immediately pushed him out the door to discuss my anger in private. Promises were made, trespasses were forgiven. Los Babosos (Latino idiots) stole my cell phone from the Plaza and at 3a.m. proceeded to phone everyone in my phonebook. And the Exhibits were a hit as usual. Sunday was wasted on trying to get my Nextel back from the puta madre who took it. All efforts were in vain. The Silver Lining: Nextel informed me that no calls were made to Tijuana from my cellphone and have already dropped the shipment of my new phone. I met, in person that is, three very interesting fellows that I like very much. Bonus- the lot of them seem only mildly annoyed with my antics. HemisphereDancer , Batonga , Kenn. I have created a picture blog. Follow the link to The Teahouse Scrapbook in the Falderal section to your right.