This weekend has been one of those "let's not make any plans" weekends that should actually have been called "Holy shit!!! That's a lot of projects on the honeydo list!"

Yesterday I had two lawns mowed by 10:45am (including bagging) and I also did a variety of other things to fill the "plan-less" time until the World Cup best loser match came on at 3pm and then the Busch Race at 4pm.

Oh, and instead of actually watching either, we went to our brand new Fresh Market to get dinner fixins to welcome our neighbors home from vacation.

Sidebar: Fresh Market Kicks Total Ass. I would move in there and survive on snack sized portions of everything they sell, which I think you could actually do if you were a tick crafty about it. And owned a green apron.

Anyway, we had the neighbors up and consumed a couple of adult beverages throughout dinner and had a delicious Chardonnay that they brought back for us.

Another sidebar: I freaking hate wine. Always have. Unless you're already drunk or 15 years old or a girl or probably all three, then there's no good reason for it. I just never understood how folks drank wine.

Until last night.

This stuff was A-Mazing. I won't bore you with too many details, mostly because I don't know all the words and the way to use them correctly like the cast of the movie Sideways. But check out this site to read more about them. We're trying to figure out a way to get some ordered and delivered to either South or North Carolina and getting it from there. I'll keep you posted.

Anyway, suffice it to say that either I was over-tired or my old lady slipped me some Rohypnol, but I was vawee sweepie. Take a look.






And before any of you say anything, that bottle on the right side of my desk is NOT lotion. It's medicine for my psoriasis.

Really.

Come to think of it, why would a sane person post two picture where in one he's sitting next to what LOOKS like a tube of hand lotion and in the other he has a box of tissues AND a roll of toilet paper? And that face could, instead of sleep, in fact be the TMLSB O-face.

E-freaking-gad.