Distractshawn

So, I was planning on writing about the final night of The Camping Trip, and how I drank an heroic amount of Yukon Jack, and persuaded a member (heh-"member") of our troop to accompany me on a raid of the campsite of the unfortunate souls who got raided and herded out of the campground like so much cattle, and how we sat around and discussed everything from Selective Tourette's to Satanic Worship to Sporking Yourself To Death, and how I love a good run-on sentence, but...I won't.

Suffice to say- I had a Good Time.

Trust me on that.

The problem is, I can't quite remember why I even bothered to log in to this blog. I'm a dirty blog logger. I'm pretty sure I had a point, but all of the alcohol I ingested this evening has conspired to befuddle me.

Wait, I've got it.

Shit- I lost it.

Ummm...let's see...I'm going Skydiving again next month with a bunch of friends, and we're going to book a few hotel rooms in the area, so we can celebrate Courting Death with style.

I'm also heading down to Maryland ("The Land of Maries") in a week or two to scout out The Scene. I may be relocating sooner than anticipated, and Maryland beckons for several reasons.

I've had a Strange and Adventurous week, but the fact that I've been treating my physiology like a walking Petri Dish prevents me from articulating the details of the past few days. In layman's terms: I'm hammered.

God save the Queen...