Rock out with your Blog out

John is really spending a lot of time on his blog these days, so I feel the need to keep up. I can't be losing readers to him. He doesn't know how to spell anything correctly and I'm pretty sure his blog has AIDS. Whatever, the competition just fuels my desire to make this the best blog in the world.
On the left is Sam attempting to penetrate a female sand chick he molded in the sand during Beach Week.
I'm heading to Orlando on Friday with Bobby, Nikki and Sean and then I'll be home in NY for Thanksgiving so sadly, my blog is also going on vacation. For those who suffer from traumatic blog withdrawal, I'll send you a postcard or something.
I'm really not a big fan of flying, which probably has something to do with me always googling things like "worst plane crashes" and "planes scary dangerous death". So if I do die this weekend, and in my head, there's about an 83 % chance that I will, I'll miss you all, oh, and please have the medics extract man seed from my body and implant it in Mandy Moore or Dakota Fanning.

Ah, the good ole days of $.25 bowling where we'd pound 40s and Sparks until eventually Rob and Sean starting making out and rolling around the floor. It was all fun, but then there was that one night, where Rob drank four Sparks in a half hour, took off his pants in front of some high school girls and started running down the lane. The worst part was we got kicked out by Jeff's dad, who was clearly just a smuck because he had a gimpy leg and hadn't gotten laid since 1980.
We're getting new computers at work. Hopefully they will run a lot faster so I can play poker all day instead of banging my head against the wall as it takes two hours for an e-mail to open. We also should have two interns come January, which means even less work for me, and really, it's almost impossible for me to work less than I do now. So, I might not quit my job and watch movies all day after Thanksgiving as I had planned.
Blog out, bitch.