Tequila is not your friend...

When will I learn that Tequila doesn't help anything. Ever. Nope, it just doesn't.

Went to Underground last night. Drank a whole lot. Danced a good bit. Don't remember anything after 12:30 or so. Haven't done that since VEGAS!, so yeah.

I do think that I'm hungover. Or still drunk. Who knows for sure. But I do know that I had a helluva time last night, at least for the parts that I remember.

I really hope that Michael and Dawn et al. made it home okay. Some of them folks were pretty damn toasty.

And now for some random thoughts:

Dave's couch is pretty damn comfy, it is.

Rena's friend Michelle (it *is* Michelle, I hope...) is pretty cute.

Monique is pretty dang hot.

I should never, never, never, never, never, ever do "One Burbon, One Scotch, One Beer." It's a baaaaaad thing. And the Tequila didn't help none. Even if it was Patrone.

This weekend is about not thinking about work. Or at least until Sunday night.

Dancing is good for the soul. Even if you can't remember doing it.

Rain makes for an interesting night out.

Flirting is fun.

NOOCH!

I wish I were a baller; I wish I were taller; I wish I had a girl in the hood I would call her...

Water would be good right now. Shower, I think, and then out the door again for a movie or something like that...