The Weekend: A Recap

- As Liz mentioned on her blog this Friday we went to see a Journey cover band. What she neglected to mention were the following facts:
- At the McDonald's where we stopped for directions there was a conference room in the middle of the dining room with as sign encouraging people to rent it out for their next meeting. REALLY? No... really? Because nothing says effective business conferencing like the smell of McMuffins grilling

- At the concert there was a very, very, very drunk chick who kept hopping up on stage and grinding on the lead singer and bass player. When she touched the bass player (whom we were sweating from afar) Liz took off her shoe and threatened to throw it. Before I could encourage her enough to do it the roadie came out and dragged the woman off stage. She hopped back on 3 separate times. She was wearing a turtle neck and no bra, you know, for that touch of class

- A middle aged man with a dunlap (Belly done lapped over his belt) and his wife stood directly in front of us, dry humped and the dude took of his shirt. I contend that due to seeing this I lost an ovary and my left eye went blind for about 30 seconds. I'll never be the same.

- Despite all of these items we had an awesome time and Liz and I have agreed to slow dance with each other to Open Arms at our respective weddings. It'll be magical.

- Yesterday when driving home my Blue Tooth died. I still wanted to talk to Liz about my weekend so I put her on speaker phone. The only place I could think of to stash the phone close to my mouth? In my cleavage. So yes, Liz spoke to me from my breasts for an hour and it was magical. Also apparently around the 405 and 10 junction my breasts become a dead zone and drop calls. Just for your knowledge.

- I got the best massage of my life on Saturday. I am in no way exaggerating when after the massage I considered proposing to the masseuse Angela. I also tried to think of ways to lure her to my car. All I came up with was 'candy' as my brain was fried from the awesomeness of 90 minutes of deep tissue rubbin'. It didn't work but I will plot some more and go back to Angela soon. Oh yes, she will be mine.