It’s almost 60 degrees right now, which means as soon as I post this and put on some tennis shoes, Riley and I are gonna go find something to do outside that doesn’t include him standing on my balcony scaring the shit out of kids that walk by.
It’s hard, though. I’ve been, uh, catching up on sleep, and it’s getting hard to tear myself away from Court TV at the moment, since there’s an all day marathon of Beach Patrol: San Diego running. I mean, what’s not to love about a show that talks about finding someone passed out in a puddle of their own vomit because she’s not taken some type of medication? That’s high quality entertainment and educational in my research for a trip to San Diego sometime.
I’m usually pretty good at remembering names, right? By every once in a while, a name will just escape my already full brain, no matter how much I want to retain it. Willis has a friend whose name starts with T, but it’s not one I can remember, so last night, it became Tortilla. There’s a bartender name whose name starts with G, and even though I know what her name is, I always say Gretchen instead. I can’t figure this one out.
And finally, this matching game is fun, but not nearly as fun as the Naked Lady Matching Game that you can play at bars.