I know what you're thinking, you're thinking "What the hay is Tony Spunk doing up before noon?" Well I have a good reason people. I haven't actually been to bed yet. Not to sleep anyway, heh.

That was my way of saying "I tapped some badonkadonk last night." And again this morning if you want to be specific. That little Vanessa is a livewire.

It's also my birthday. I'm officially older than dirt (and just as filthy). Happy birthday to me. I got a great card from my mom who still thinks I'm 12. She also sent some "Old Spice" and this thing...well I'm not exactly sure what the thing is, but it looks like some kind of torture implement from Roman times. I'm sure I'll figure it out sometime. Let's face matters, if an object of unknown origin doesn't relate to eating or the wiener, I'm kinda stumped.

The other great gift I got, besides the roll in the hay, was a remote control cocktail robot courtesy of the Mexican. It's a little mechanical dude who can carry you a cocktail clean across the room from the bar. Or kitchen sink if you don't have a bar. Sort of like me. Problem is, he doesn't know how to make a darn cocktail so it sort of voids the whole convenience issue. I have to make my own drink, give it to the robot and he brings it to me on the couch. I mean does that sound like a sensible idea to anyone? Still he impresses the ladies and scares the neighbor's dog so all is well, I'm thinking. He also has a super scary mechanical voice. Sounds like a big, metal German dude. "Vee hef vays of making you cocktails."