So...last night was ok.

After dying on the spear of Dirty Vegas' Days Go By, the notes of which I couldn't hit, they let me swing into Clint Eastwood, which was terribly nice of them. Still, I wasn't quite up, so I munched a few lines. I blame the liquor that Derek brought me as a birthday present (thanks, man!); it was fairly potent stuff. The cups are bitchin', too. Thanks to Elisa, I bought myself a Low-Life from Santiago and also shared a shot with our other illustrious bartender (who's name I was sure was Jared, but there seems to be dispute).

Still, I got redemption with Britney Spears of all things. Scared the hell out of everyone. :)

Anyway, I can't say I've much to complain about on that front. Plenty of HB's all 'round...