Came home after work, laid(lied? lay? layed?) on the couch, and woke up seven hours later.

Perhaps it's time to start thinking about maybe considering going to bed earlier on weeknights.

Nah.

Went out yesterday with the sole purpose of buying some clothes hangers. About halfway to Target I remembered that Simon Cowell had a book out, so I detoured 20 miles to the closest Barnes & Noble to pick up a copy.

Well the book doesn't come out until tomorrow but did I let that stop me? Nooooooo! I went ahead and bought $150 worth of other books that I thought looked good.

If it's possible, I read too much. I'm currently reading "Darwin's Children" to closeout the story began in "Darwin's Radio." I'm also reading the Jessica Lynch book and trying to reread "Timeline" before I see the movie. My reading of the trilogy of "Hominids," "Humans," and "Hybrids" has been stalled for a month now - I'm still stuck in the first book.

When those are done I've got about a dozen books that I've been meaning to get to, and you can throw in a few more after yesterday's buying spree.

And oh yeah, I still have to go out tomorrow and buy Cowell's book because he might mention Kelly Clarkson in it.

After last week's fiasco I'm still feeling a little less than adventurous.

Last night I had some Newcastle at Hooter's, then went to Rich O's and had a couple pints of Upland's Bad Elmer's Porter.

This beer was a very refreshing surprise after the flavor overkill I've seen with stouts and porters lately. There was no chocolate, coffee, or dog shit taste. Just roasted malt, and not too much of that. I'd definitely drink it again.

I've tracked down the cause of my incredible Internet slowdown. It was the ad-blocker program WebWasher.

I've switched back to AdSubtract and I'm running at broadband speeds once again.

I really like that show "queer eye for the straight guy."

Last night, in fact, I had a choice between catching up on the four hours of "24" that I've had tivoed but never watched, or watching the queer eye marathon that got tivoed last week.

I watched the gay guys, and really enjoyed it. They are hilarious.

I've noticed that the turkey I bought doesn't have one of those popup doohickeys to tell me when it's done.

I have zero confidence in my ability to place a meat thermometer correctly, so I'll probably either burn the house down or give myself food poisoning.

Happy Thanksgiving, one day early, just in case.

Birthday greetings to my sister Dina!

Perhaps it's time to start lying about your age.

I hardly ever get a hangover. This is mostly because I'm such a lightweight when it comes to alcohol that I don't drink that much. It is possible, however, for a new beer to sneak up on me and whack me in the head repeatedly before I know what's coming.

My first beer at Rich O's last night was, as usual, a Cone Smoker. I'm tempted to call last night's glass a sample of yet another version of this Sybil of beers, but it was actually very close to version #5, with a slightly less bland background behind the smoke.

Next I was on to the experimentation phase of the night. The NABC has released a new Belgian-style pale ale called Merckx, and I had a small pint of that. The only word I can think of to describe it is "cloying." There didn't seem to be much of a distinct flavor, but what there was lingered for quite a while.

I next tried to order an Alaskan Smoked Porter, but they were out. The bartender then tried to kill me. She selected a bottle of Schlenkerla Urbock Smokebeer, reasoning that since I like smoky beer I should try what is perhaps the strongest entry in that field.

Well, the smoke was indeed very powerful. It was also quite a different type of smoky flavor than the Cone Smoker, Rogue Smoke Ale, or any other Rauchbier I've tried. I got a definite grapey taste from the smoke. I don't know if I would call it a good taste, but it certainly did the job of concealing the alcohol behind it.

After just two or three drinks I began to suspect that this would have to be my last beer of the night. After a couple more I started wondering if I would even finish the bottle.

I did manage to finish it and raced home before the alcohol still in my stomach could join its brethren in my bloodstream.

Now this morning I feel like shit and probably look worse.

...you probably think this entry is about you.

They say that familiarity breeds contempt, but in your case it breeds the opposite.

You seem to have no idea how incredibly sexy you are, and that only make you more desirable.

Last week I sprained my wrist in bed.

Now, if you're smart, you'll stop reading right there. The facts of what happened will pale before whatever filthy scenario your mind is imagining now.

A glutton for punishment, huh? Okay, you asked for it.

I'm going to the effort of writing this account because I've told this story to about 351 people since this morning. In the future, when someone asks me about my wrist brace, I plan to just refer them to this site and go on with my life.

What happened is this - and really, this is very boring, so stop reading now - is that I was sleeping. I was alone. There were no handcuffs involved. Heck, even my cats had long since tired of my constant tossing and turning and escaped to more comfortable bedding, like the floor, or in Happy's case, the bathroom sink.

Anyway, I was sleeping. Sleeping on my left side, to be exact. My left hand was hanging over the edge of the mattress.

Here comes the exciting part.

I turned over.

Because of my sleeping condition I didn't remove my hand from the edge of the mattress before I turned over. I gave my wrist a pretty good jerk, and woke up saying a pretty bad word.

Two days later it still hurt so I went to the doctor. He told me to stop turning over and to wear this wrist brace.

Now, don't you wish you'd stopped reading back when your filthy mind thought I'd hurt my wrist during some orgy of depravity?