Ew. I just got some blog on me.

I meant to mention last night, in my post, that I was planning on going to one last night by myself...hence the post. For those who care, I actually found someone to go to the movie last night. I even ran the risk of seeing a potentially bad movie with someone that doesn't know me very well.

Saw "Mr. and Mrs. Smith."

It was average.

I think.

I'm pretty sure I was hoping for an Angelina nipple-slip the whole time, and it caused me to lose track of the plot.

I just think, as a male, sometimes you just can't resist.

The irony is, I don't even consider myself a boob man. Ass man all the way. I can like all kinds of boobs, but ya gotta have the right kinda ass. Mmmmm...ass.

Sorry.

Back to not being able to help it. I recall a moment out to dinner with an unnamed female (Dennis: "Whoa-oh here she comes, watch out boy..."). A woman walked by the table, who was completely unattractive, and yet the quick check was necessary. I knew she was there, and just HAD to know if she was hot. It doesn't happen all the time, but when it does, it's uncommonly strong.

This, of course, was followed by the inevitable, "You just can't help it, can you?" Luckily, the other woman wasn't hot, so no harm, no foul. That, and I think I took her shopping afterwards. That has the ability to be the solution to everything.

Fast forward to a pool party with Heather. As she and Amanda were standing and talking to me, suddenly, the words, "Whoa, look at those," came out of her mouth. I mean, C'MON! How am I not supposed to look? I had to make a complete 180-degree turn to see them, but before I could even decide as to whether it was in good taste or not, I was 90-degrees in. Boob-dar was at red-alert. At least I had chicks to blame it on this time. Disaster averted.

I'm proud to say that I've honed much of my viewing to be as discrete as possible. Anyone who's been in a relationship for a while should have by now. And those who date us, you must know by now that it's practically involuntary. Your body is still what turns us on, but sometimes we just can't walk by the window and not check out the shoes in the display. Why would they put them there if they didn't want us to see that they were on sale?

Oh, and by the way, don't bother going to the movie if you're looking for bare boob.

Wow. I'm a whopping 30 minutes into having this whole thing created, and I've already thought of another post. Perhaps this won't be as difficult to keep up as I thought. Wait...that didn't come out right...

Is it weird to see a movie by yourself? I've always maintained that it's no big deal. I do it all the time. I live 100 feet from a movie theater THAT SERVES DINNER, and it's a nice way to catch up on food and flicks at the same time, particularly early in a week. Ooh, and two for ones on Mondays (yes, they serve drinks, too). Found that one out the hard way last week.

However, I'm shunned by nearly every person I talk to about how sad it is that I view movies without company. Would you say that if I watched a DVD by myself? Methinks your attitude towards the subject wouldn't be the same.

I firmly believe that there's a difference between being alone, and being lonely. We can't talk during the movie anyway, so I'm not about to take a date with me that I barely know. My friends have lives, children, and live in other freakin' states right now, so it's tough to track them down at the last minute, as most of my movie-viewing decisions are. Other times, for example, it makes it tough to actually VIEW the movie. If I take Lauren (who's going to be only 5 in August) to see a kid flick like Madagascar, well, let's just say she likes to talk. Can't say I blame her. If I were that interesting, I'd probably talk that much, too. However, it's tough to catch every nuance of a movie's wit and entertainment when you have a 4 year old talking about how the zebra has cake on his face. Not a bad thing...just different.

I enjoy movies for a lot of reasons. Many go just to do something for two hours. I just enjoy them. Even if they're bad. At least I can laugh at how bad it was. If I brought someone to a bad movie, and they didn't know me that well, wouldn't that be a reflection on my taste? Well, THAT'S a lot of pressure, mister. Not interested.

I'm cool if you think that it's a little weird. For God's sake, though, don't feel freakin' sorry for me.

I can probably name a thousand times where I've been reading the blogs of others, and thought, "Oh yeah! That reminds me of something I would put in MY blog."...uh, if I had one.

Now I do.

I'm not particularly surprised. Technology is neither foreign to me or a scary subject. Though I am a bit surprised I started this before I ever got an iPod. Go figure.

But, I digress...welcome to my blog, and my first entry in it. I'd rather not begin with an introduction, as the only people that will view this will likely be people who already know me. I'll just jump into it as though I've been writing these for a while. For in my mind, I have.

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I've found, over the course of the last week or so, that I've become VERY prone to drinking. Not to say that I wouldn't tie one on, but this last week has been interestingly abundant in the booze department.

I don't have the time to type the entire week's events, from Mort's with Alaina and her sister on Monday, to Sean and I getting hammered while watching Game 7 on Thursday, to the weekend that followed, including two of Heather's gigs and one birthday celebration for my buddy Dennis.

To most, I'm known as PJ. To tequila, I'm known as "The Pizzle." Thanks to Dennis, and HIS evil twin, "The D.I.C." for starting that one. Like I don't have enough nicknames.

This last week was no exception. A little rowdy, but nothing I'd be too ashamed of. At least there's always this week...