Sunday Sunday Sunday!
Seeing as how I slept much of yesterday away, the weekend has gone way too fast. Yesterday we saw the new Bond movie. It was silly, of course. And having sex on a pile of diamonds? Ow. And Madonna was stinky. Other than those issues and a few bad breaks in the film, it was a good time.
Then we had dinner with the family at the Ponderosa, which was better than it has been, but still not, you know, great. We ditched pretty fast and I met up with the Joneses at the P, where the Fat Slapper tried to kill my sister with alcohol poisoning. I think he thinks he's doing people a favor when he hands you a glass of paint thinner. Not so. Stupid Fat Slapper.
And today I'll finish my Christmas tree - honestly! and then watch the big game minus one lucky bastard who'll be freezing his - let's say bum - off. Yet I'm jealous. The love for the Pack can make you do crazy things. I just pray I don't see anyone I know sporting a cheese bra. Or bro. Or manssiere.