Of Bruises And Bachelor Parties

"And what's your name?"

"My name is Hob, and tonight I am the corrupter of souls."

Once again where to start?

Friday night was James's surprise going away party. The kid is going to USC in a few days and though I know he'll do just fine on the complete other side of the country that doesn't seem to stop everyone from worrying about him.

Also I got my Jets season tickets last night. First time I've ever had actual season tickets to anything. And I'm not even a Jets fan. Though now that they have Favre I might actually go to a few games.

Yesterday afternoon the cousins were up and I visited with them and little brother and sister. For some reason unknown to anyone they devised a slip and slide going down the hill in the backyard out of a 40 by 40 blue tarp. Now that hill is rocky and bumpy and just not nice. But there was the rookie, long after everyone else gave up, sliding down that damn hill all by himself. I just couldn't let that be. So there I am, all 350 pounds of me, wearing $100 dry clean only pants and suspenders sliding down that damn hill like I was ten years old again. I'll tell you, that slip and slide is a young man's game because I am sore as hell this morning.

Last night was Vilaboy's bachelor party. It was, as always, a blast. I saw some old "friends" I hadn't seen in awhile and made a few new ones. I spent entirely too much money. Some kid vomited on my bus. We need to have bachelor parties more often. Like, every day...or every week at least. Come to think of it, that't not all that different from what we've been doing anyway.


"Did you just pull up to a strip club in a school bus?"

"Yeah. You know how we roll."