Seacrest… er, Berning out!

A recap of my Oregon trip by the numbers, literally.

  • Days of rain: 5
  • Visits to strip clubs: 3
  • Hotness level of Thai food: 8 (this was the level chosen after it was revealed that the published 1-4 levels were not “Thai hot”)
  • Double shots of Tequila: 6 (possibly more, however my memory wasn’t working too well after the 6th)
  • Pieces my cell phone is in: 2
  • Collective years two of my friends hadn’t draken in: 7 (don’t worry they aren’t recovering alcoholics, they just have two children)

Thanks to everyone that came out to share a drink or two.  Special thanks go to:

  • Deaver, for letting me crash all week at his place, giving me a remote control for my entertainment system, and even coming through with a replacement cell phone for my broken one.
  • C-Dub, for the boat trip and tapping Owen’s (his son) college fund to cover some of our enormous bar bill.
  • Randy, for covering more than his fair share of the bar bill.

Josh created this?

Just thought I’d share this picture since it was so cute.  Did I just say “cute”?  Ugh, I think I can feel my heart beating.

Damn you God of Rain!

I believe everytime I’ve returned to Oregon, since moving to Chicago, the weather has been shitty and rainy.  I make it home 2 or 3 times a year and every goddamn time it has rained!  And everytime I come home, everyone says, “It was beautiful just last week.”  Horseshit!  Had I never lived there, I would swear Oregonians were bold-faced liars or just delusional from all the water on the brain.

Anywho, I’ve looked at the forecast… rain all week, of course.  And I’ve already prepared myself for the inevitable recount of last week’s record high temps.  At least in Chicago, “if you don’t like the weather, wait fifteen minutes.”


As many of you know I turned the big 3-0 last week.  And along with that day came a very surprised Fredrick.  Stacy threw me a surprise 30th at a bar in Chicago and even went so far as to plan for friends from out of state to attend.  That’s me on the right, being very confused.

Just to prove how hard I got Punk’d, I’ve included an excerpt of an email from a friend whom I usually meet up with for drinks on Fridays.  I had emailed her to see if we were on, as per usual, and this was her reply: “I have my girlfriend’s 30th bday party tonight, which I totally forgot about, so I don’t think I can go out Three Amigos-style.”   Unbeknownst to me, I was the “girlfriend.”  And although I was surprised by walking into a random bar and hearing, “Surprise!!” nothing could have prepared me for the encounter I had in the bathroom.

After the initial surprise, I headed straight to the bathroom since I had already been drinking for a few hours and as I was standing at the urinal, five guys busted into the bathroom and grabbed me from behind.  My eyes about jumped out of my head as I turn around and see Nate, Ben, Eric, Jeremy, and Todd.  All I could repeat, to the bathroom attendant was, “They don’t even live here!” to which he replied, “That’s your boys!”

To Nate, thanks for keeping me aimed at the urinal.

To Redgay, thanks for making the trek back to Chitown although I heard you had some “extra” fun.

To Deaver, thanks for outlasting Nate on Saturday.

To Ben, thanks for 4am Rock ‘n’ Roll McDonald’s.

To Eric, you are banned from Chicago but thanks for coming and providing lots of stories.

To Stacy, thanks for planning it all.

And to the rest who attended, thank you.