June 11, 2004

Well, I was hard-pressed to not go out at least one more time at the beach.  We decided we'd make one more go of it and what a go it was.  I drank so much I woke up the next morning still buzzing.

As usual, we drank a bit at the condo before heading out to, you guessed it, Broadway at the Beach.  This time we went to a bar called Malibu's Surf Bar.  It was okay.  I wasn't all that impressed but I was drunk and really, that's all that mattered.

I was standing by the stage watching my friends dance when a guy walked up and started talking to me.  He said he couldn't speak much English because he was from Colombia.  So, I started talking to him in
Spanish.  Mind you, I haven't had Spanish since my sophomore year of college and was a bit rusty. Instead, I kept offering him cigarettes and that seemed to keep him appeased and far enough away from
me. 

A little while later I started dancing with another guy but had to forfeit because he was a graduate of Virginia Tech.  We Mountaineers hate the Hokies and I told him I simply couldn't dance with a pussy of his caliber. 

I went outside to find my friends who were talking to a group of guys.  Alex was telling them that we had to get going because she had to drive to Texas the next day.  She kept lamenting about how it would be a long drive and she really wasn't looking forward to it. Fortunately she had no such plans and was just looking to make a quick exit.  We headed home and last I remembered, passed out.

The next morning I woke up as Casey was standing in my door.  She asked where her phone was when all of a sudden it started ringing.  She looked around and felt her pockets, only to look down in her shirt.  There it was, wedged between her boob and bra.  I'm not quite
sure how she slept with it in there but obviously she was pretty toasty.

We headed home bright and early Saturday morning and after that it was pretty uneventful.  Overall it was a good trip and I'm more than ready to head back to the beach...even if it is Myrtle Beach.

This past weekend Adam and I went to a wedding. Every time I go to one of our friends' ceremonies I get a little uptight.  I guess it's because I imagine what our wedding will be like.  It'll undoubtedly be redneck meets mafia.  While I have no doubts that
our families will get along, the differences tend to scare me.  What will we serve...fried chicken or lasagna...Pabst Blue Ribbon or wine??  The possibilities are endless. 

This weekend's couple entered the reception hall to the Mountaineer Fight Song.  It was creative but a little corny.  I always wonder how people pick which song will announce their arrival.  My cousin chose the "Let's Get Ready to Rumble" announcement coupled with the Rocky theme.  I have no idea if this was an indication of what was to come in their marriage. Let's hope not.  By the way, if you're just not ready to settle down yet, you can generate your very own pimp name here.  Mine is Master Pimp T. Loco.  Word to ya motha!!  You can hit me on the DL at randiwvu@yahoo.com

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