--No crazy shenanigans to report from the weekend. There were the usual shenanigans (smelling girls' hair while trying not to get caught; friends pretending to be passed out and watching other friends make love; getting my spitter thrown across the floor by a rather heavyset woman in an argyle sweater) but no crazy shenanigans. There will be at least twice as many of our friends back home at Christmas than Thanksgiving. That fact, combined with our relatively low-key behavior this weekend, means that somebody is probably gonna get their house burned down somewhere around the 26th of December.
--This was a lot more fun when we had places to after-party that weren't our parents' houses. This was the thought I had at approximately 2:37am on Sunday. I had just dropped T. Nels off for the night, and had spent the last 5 minutes idling outside the driveway, assuring him that no, I really didn't want to come in to his pitch-black, dead silent IN-LAWs' HOUSE for a couple beers at 2:30 in the morning.
--My Thanksgiving eating performance was disappointing, to say the least. I still ate double what anyone else at the table did, including my 275 pound father (and my 275 pound aunt-- zing!-- just kidding, she couldn't be a pound over 250...just kidding again, I don't really have an obese aunt) but it wasn't up to my lofty standards. Probably how Tiger Woods felt like when he was winning all those tournaments with his self-proclaimed C game.
--Another disappointment was my big unveiling to my family that I occasionally chew now. In my mind, I envisioned my dad and brother giving me heartfelt handshakes, my dad getting a little teary-eyed and saying "I always wanted a second son..." then inviting me out to the garage to take apart a transmission or clean some shotguns or something....but instead they just indifferently shrugged their shoulders while my mom immediately started giving me a lecture on how disgusting it is.
--Plaxico Burress is a dipshit. Next time you accidentally shoot yourself, please make it severe enough so that you can never play football again, and there is no chance that you end up on my fantasy team ever again.
--Today is Day 1 of Paul's first annual "24 Days of Elf." He will be watching the Will Ferrell movie every single night from now until Christmas Eve. In a related story, Mandy's Christmas present to Paul this year is going to be divorce papers. Mandy, you can probably just get this thing annulled, it hasn't even been 3 months yet.
