It Happened One Night.

Right before we closed the bar tonight, a drunken lady demanded to know what a Dirty Sanchez was. No one would tell her, not her friends, not the table next door... so it came down to me to explain it. I didn't go into a lot of detail, I just said that it involved anal sex...and mustaches...mustaches made with poop.

I have never seen a total stranger so crestfallen at something I said. It didn't feel like I was crushing her spirit, yet there I was, apparently crushing the shit out of it. Let this be a lesson to everyone. Once you learn something, it is very hard to unlearn it, so be careful what you ask for, o.k.?

At the Threshold.

Poor little neglected blog. How I do and don't seem to miss you... sigh... I suppose it is helpful that I am out and about these days. I was running pretty low on new experiences there for a while.

Being laid up with broken stuff is pretty demoralizing, I have to say. That, and Vicodin is a helluva drug. Doesn't do much for the concentration... or the inspiration, come to find out. Works pretty good on pain. That's about it, though... I say, don't get injured, anyone! It is teh suxx0r.

Anyway, I still plan to return to writing a little more regularly, it's just taking me some time to get comfortable again.

While you are here you might as well get this. Because it Rules.

Holy Sepulchre.

Jeez, sure is quiet around here...