"It's so damn hot! ...Milk was a bad choice."

(On an opening side note, I couldn't be happier that the Ron-Burgundy-Constantly-on-HBO era is finally upon us. Can you think of another movie in the modern era that gets as progressively funnier with age? I didn't think so. The defense rests.)

Christ, it's like the Martian surface out here. I can't believe six months ago I was shoveling snow and praying for warmth. That "God" and his sense of humor, I swear - 'never gets old.

"This is gettin' to be re-god-damn-diculous!"

In the spirit of this new era of the Me-Blog, I'd like to back up a few days.

Last Saturday several of us escaped the furnace by hanging out at The 19th Hole's pool, rubbing in sunblock and drinking margaritas all afternoon. I know I know: poor me and life sucks.

At one point 19th Hole and Neary left for margarita reinforcements, heading back down the block to the apartment. So when they arrived, naturally there was a cluster of door-to-door evangelists gathered outside. For anyone with any lingering doubts that these people aren't seriously disturbed, here they are pedaling Bibles on the hottest motherfucking Saturday on record.

"How are you doing today?" one of 'em asked 19th Hole as he approached his apartment door. Neary waited in the car.

"Great," Hole replied. "I've got a bunch of liquor here and I'm looking to get real drunk." He did, and he was.

"Whoa, that doesn't sound very healthy," the evangelist countered. Poor guy, I wish I'd been there to warn him - he set Hole up perfectly.

"You think that's bad?" Hole said. "When I'm done I'm gonna have go have sex with my boyfriend." He motioned to Neary, sitting in the car, who suddenly found himself a little uncomfortable.

The evangelists quickly lost interest in saving Hole's soul. Nor did they approach Neary. I have this all on Neary's word...who reluctantly corroborated when 19th Hole told the tale back at the pool.

Later that night, we all found ourselves in the basement at Saint-Ex...

"Do it - it's the story you were born to tell."

I found myself chatting with ToriKatzClassRep's lawyer friend, who was down from NY. It's surprisingly easy to do if you follow the Dickie Cronkite Fourth Law of Thermodynamics: When speaking with a new attractive person of the female persuasion, assume she's taken.*

(*Assume the subject is taken by another attractive person of the female persuasion and the principle becomes even easier.)

Hey, it was either that or chastise ToriKatzClassRep for the umpteenth time for serving as front to the oppresive Frosty shadow government. That guy's stamping the Patriot Act all over the newsroom, right under our noses.

Meanwhile, I watched some moderately cute girl approach Special Ed and try to get him to go home with her. *Sigh* My God, why hath you forsaken me.

Not long after, a remarkable thing may or may not have happened: Two of my girl friends - who also happen to be attractive persons of the female persuasion - may or may not have called me over. Then one of them may or may not have said in my ear: "We've been thinking, and, um, we both sort of want to make out with you."

Editor's note: Sheesh - if that doesn't deserve an honorable blog mention, nothing does.

Did I act on that? No. Why? Because I think too much.

Stupid brain! Off switch, off switch!

"I immediately regret this decision!"

Life is fast becoming a series of moral victories...

And why kiss and - er, not kiss and tell? Well, let's just say I received an "anonymous" phone call from a blog publicist, looking to see the story in print. Don't think I'd sell out my friends for classic blog material. Ok, well, most of my friends...