LinZ describes the weekend of crazy fun times better than I do.

But I shall do my best to try to match her efforts.

Ok. I am not very good at "club dancing."

I'm not sure I fit in with the "bump n' grind" generation. It makes me really uncomfortable to be so overtly sexual with a stranger while listening to such bad music.

There is no way to nicely tell someone, "hey, I don't know you, please get your strange, prominent penis off of me."

I have never felt so many forgein (in both senses of the word) boners on me in one night.

Seriouslly.

That was really grody.

But it was fun when LinZ and me surprise-attacked Nickolay Scheteinkin with our hot sexy party girl moves.

Silly little Russian. You never saw it coming.

The night before = Kelly's annual "Happy Birthday Jesus!" bonfire = extreme fun action.

I got a bike horn. You can make some wacky noises with that motha.

And Neil is probably the frigging awesomest kid I've ever met.

He says "paaaaaaaaaaaaaahsibly."

He has Flock of Seagulls hair.

He looks like Rivers.

He mocks the Brittish.

He has a robot megaphone, and a mannequin hand.

He is a small and cuddly artist, like Bob Ross.

We held the hands. We kissed the lips. We snuggled the snuggles. But things just aren't that easy.

His friend Mike kept on feeling my thigh under the covers, though, and that was weird.

Mike is 21, weird as all hell, and likes to take out his front teeth.

I like meeting new people.

And taking pictures of their nipples.

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