Sir Sir

I know I quickly touched on it earlier, but I got a damn speeding ticket today.  I was getting off at my exit when the po' pulled behind me.  Seeing flashing lights in the review mirror might be the most stomach-dropping feeling there is.  And no, the cop wasn't wearing a ten gallon hat.  Didn't have a mustache.  No southern drawl either.  He was actual pretty nice and even dropped my speed which will save me $50.  Still though, what a prick.
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I recently was reunited with a long lost love after about a two year break.  The break wasn't mutual.  I wanted keep things going but she couldn't come with me.  She knew me better than anyone I'd ever known.  Knew what I liked and was able to make me incredibly happy.  If you couldn't already surmise, I'm talking about my DVR box.

I have 10 TV series set to "record all."  I don't even know if I can follow 10 different shows but I can try!!  When you don't have a DVR, you have no idea the power you are missing.  I find things to record.  "Helicopter Missions?"  Sign me up.  "Loberstmen?"  You sold me on the name alone.  I always try and see what movies are playing on cable too, like AMC, TBS, etc.  Most of the time, they do not disappoint. 

Just last night, I recorded the movie "Pitch Black."  I had never seen it nor really had any desires to see it.  However, with the power of the DVR, why wouldn't I record 2 and a half of hours of Vin Diesel.  For those unfamiliar with "Pitch Black," it stars Vin Diesel.  And really, who needs to know anything else?  I see Sir Diesel, I record. 
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A few of my friends and I have long discussed the merits of gentlemen who are knighted and given the title of Sir.  Sir Paul McCartney: totally deserving.  Sir Elton: could have stopped after "Candle in the Wind" and still would deserve it.  The conversation usually drifts off to who least deserves to be a Sir.  The most common names to come up are Sir Meatloaf and Sir Carrot Top for whatever reason.  I don't know if it's a food thing or if it's that Meatloaf, while once a hell of a singer is now just a fat, sweaty mess, and that Carrot Top looks like a female bodybuilder.  Next time this conversation comes up, Sir Vin Diesel is getting brought up.

I was going to scrap that last paragraph but I really wanted to keep the links.   
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I turned 24 last Friday.  To celebrate, a few of my co-workers and I went out for happy hour after work.  We ended up at a very classy steak house called Ruth's Chris.  And no, I have no idea what the name means either.  Happy hour consisted of two beers and the cheapest appetizer on the menu, potato skins.  The party dispersed around 7 and it was time to head home for more celebration.  This was easier said than done.  I should mention that the bar was in the middle of downtown Austin.  This was pretty much my first time downtown.  And it was dark and raining.  Needless to say, I got turned around and could not find the right one or two roads that would take me across the river and back to the southside.  What should have been a quick 10-15 minute drive took me almost an hour.  I finally found my way home and walked up to my neighborhood bar where I befriended a blind, trumpet player in a mariachi band.  Happy birthday to me indeed.
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Y'all come back now y'here.