I was going to write about my friend Verle with eyes the size of pinballs who almost got one of them sucked out by a snake in his sleep on a camping trip, but woke up just in time to detach it by prying its jaws apart with his leatherman using his good eye and rearview mirror as the snake dangled and fought back, and was left with a shiner that lasted three weeks, but since it's a true story and he's not a Hasher (yet), it doesn't qualify for this blog.

Now then.
Ah, what a relaxing weekend... It seemed to last forever. Stayed at work late Friday, decided to forego happy hour, and curled up with a wholesome book. Got a great night's sleep Saturday, too, after a sensible day of sun at the beach, slathered from head to toe with my ol' 45 to prevent an otherwise spectacular sunburn - damn, I can almost imagine it. I reset my clock at exactly midnight, and went to bed, ignoring all those text messages to go to the Balinese Room for reggae which probably would have made me stay up late for a Whataburger breakfast.

Sunday I cleaned my house 'til it squeaked, and got to the Hash early 'cause of all my intricate planning. I was in perfect health, after weeks of regular 10-K runs, a diet of macrobiotic "food", and extreme sobriety. Came in as FRB at the Hash, then drove straight home at 60 mph to finally download and organize all my Hash pix from Christmas. I called my parents, and was asleep by 8 p.m. I woke up thinking, "I can't wait to get to work!" Right? Right. Happy Monday. Ouch.