So...let's talk about this weekend.

Saturday I was supposed to go to the beach with my friend Steve from the rugby team. We were going to head out to Jones Beach and then make the long trek towards the gay portion of the beach where the men cavort with each other and slather suntan lotion as if it was a bottle of Eros lubricant. Well, having not gotten much sleep this week, I wasn't really enthused about getting up at the ass crack of dawn to head down to Penn Station to get a train out to Long Island to take a bus to the beach and then make a fifteen minute hike or so to the Family Fun Zone (and in this case, the word "family" has a whole new meaning).

Steve called me at about 7:30 in the morning. My alarm clock had gone off at 6:30 but I turned off the alarm and decided that since Steve hadn't called me the night before, I could get in that much needed sleep that had been absent from my life for quite some time. At first I had no clue who I was on the phone with but when Steve asked if I wanted to blow off the beach on Saturday and head out on Sunday I said, "Oh that would be nice..." I wound up sleeping until about 12:30 or so in the afternoon and got in a little bit of cleaning in my apartment since I was going to do it on Sunday but those plans...well...off into the ether.

Although, I really have to wonder about myself since at about 1:00 in the morning Saturday night, I found myself flipping back and forth between an hour of Designing Women episodes and American Gladiators. Who knew Debbe, the Tool Time Girl from Home Improvement, was a two time American Gladiators celebrity champion. She was up against "supermodel" (and they had to be stretching that term) Jennifer Flavin, aka Sly Stallone's girlfriend, and handily kicked her ass into the ground.

Well, Sunday rolls around and it's time to head out to the beach...now it's been a long time since I've been to the beach and I wasn't planning on taking my shirt off or anything because I'm really, really pale and burn way too easily. But I did anyway because by the time that we had rented our umbrellas and hiked all the way down to the gay portion of the beach, I was pretty much sweating a bit and I figured that I might as well try to get a little sun. After all, I went through the entire gay pride parade without getting burned because I kepy reapplying sunscreen. It should work again right?

So, out on the beach with me were Steve, Turtle, Burley, and Burley's boyfriend, Frank. I did get into the ocean (with my contacts in of all things) and bodysurfed a few waves. Of course, I should comment that I didn't lose a contact but also, I can't swim. Turtle's reaction to this: You're from Florida and you can't swim? Well, since that wasn't a requirement for residency in the State of Florida and I had no plans on going on Survivor anytime soon, taking swimming lessons at my age, not really required. Turtle says this me, of course, after he asks me to join in the doffing of the swim trunks and placing them around my neck. I, of course, had to decline since I'm standing in the less deep portion of the shore and would most likely be seen naked should I get knocked down into one of the more shallow areas and I didn't feel the need to blind everyone with my blindingly pale ass.

We spent about four hours or so out at the beach and it was a nice quiet relaxed day. I did get a slight sunburn on my upper thighs and the top of my feet but other than that I'm fine. My forearms got some color but nothing to the extent of me being sunburned or anything. But let me comment on this...more often than not, the men wearing small speedo swimsuits shouldn't have been wearing them at all. The new swimsuit trend though are speedo style square cut swimsuits. Oh how can I better explain this...it's the swimsuits that are tight like the speedos but instead of having that distinct bikini cutout on the sides they are square cut across. Think something like boxer briefs as swimsuits. I'm sure one of you out there knows what I'm talking about so just tell me dammit!

After we got back into the city, I headed down to The Eagle for their beer bust (that's what they call it at least). Wrestler Guy wanted to get some of the team members together for a little social frivolity at our team bar and well...he never showed. At least not while I was there. Although that's not to say that fun wasn't had by all...in fact...yes...my bare ass was exposed for all to see as I was spanked a second time after complaining that the first round of whacks on my clothed bottom weren't hard enough. Of course, I turned around after my pants were pulled up and said, "That's it?" to which I was told, "Well, I don't have a belt!" Thankfully common sense took over and I didn't take my belt off and hand it to him. I'm still not sure how this next part happened but someone told my spanker to bite my ass and he pulled down my pants again and started nibbling on my butt. Well...what can I say...he didn't leave teeth marks which was kinda disappointing but on the good side at least one person said I had a nice butt. Well it's nice to know that the cardio machines are starting to pay off in some way. As I was heading out, I made some comment about "Some day my prince will come..." to which the cuter of the Wonder Twink duo said, "...all over you." Then he gave me a nice long hug, which, I have to say was kinda nice. Those nice long friend hugs can be the best, ya know.

After that, I had dinner with Crash and proceeded to go home and well...crash. I went to bed, for me, relatively early and hit the snooze button for a solid 45 minutes before I dragged myself out of bed and to work....

And that, folks...that was my weekend. How the fuck was yours.....

P.S. The correct answer to Reading Between the Lines was indeed #1 -- 50 Cent had nothing to do with helping a man in a pickup truck.