Friday night brought much consumption of beer for me, all in a business suit. My only full business suit, in fact, which caused Angie, all night, to say, "Red, take that off! You're going to fall over and mess it up!" She had a point. Fortunately, I didn't fall over ONCE. (I don't think.)

There's really not many words that can describe Friday evening. My brother and sister-in-law came down for the Twins game, which Angie, Gretchen (Angie's neighbor), and I attended with them. Mike got his precious Johan bobblehead, which I somehow didn't get a picture of, while the four of us gals got a little tipsy at the bar across the street from my hotel.

From there we went to the Dome and, for the first time ever, I was able to see the numbers on the players backs. Jesse Crain was so close that I could have professed my love for him and let him know that we are, in fact, going to wed.

To the right is a shot of three supermodel types strutting their stuff on the way to the game. That's my sister-in-law, Amanda, on the left, Angie in the middle and Gretchen on the right. Does Angie know she's the shit or what? She caused such a scene all night, singing obnoxiously and using profane language at the game despite the nice family in front of us and we considered relocating, but we stuck around. Besides, the kid behind us was giving us a great education on what constitues a foul ball. He learned it from his video game, after all. Unfortunately, his video game didn't inform him that Corey Koskie is no longer a Twin and - imagine this - Shannon Stewart is!

Now, I would put these pictures on Flickr, but I uploaded too many and now they want money from me. The ones I uplaoded weren't even the good ones and I'm sure I'll end up forking out the twenty-five bucks, but for right now I'm just too lazy. So here's another for good measure, of Angie's neighbor, Rob and his sweet pup, Molly. Rob and I are secretly a thing. Am I a lucky gal or WHAT?

What else? There was a drunk bike ride, which I didn't take part in. Chuck and I were going to go on a drunk bike ride of our own, but instead he and Angie decided to have a big fight. I lay on the lawn at 3:30 am and sang songs to drown out the madness and Chuck tried to lock me out. I can't help but think Angie's sober neighbors are thrilled she's leaving. Fortunately, most of them are sober less often than not (and we all love them for it).

Gretchen's shirt - to the left - reads "Get Super Horny", in case you were wondering. She did get super horny and smacked my ass. It was good.

Now I'm going to tell you something gross, blog. On Saturday morning I defiled in Angie's downstairs bathroom, which we shall herein refer to as New Orleans. I plugged the toilet, tried to plunge it (I'm a terribly unskilled plungewoman), then I gave up for a while and my ADD brought my to my camera to look at the 85 pictures from the night before. After flipping through all the pictures - some twice - I turned to return to the bathroom and - *SPLASH* - there was a half inch of water. I mean no disrespect by calling it New Orleans...it was just a very unexpected flood of water that couldn't be consumed because it had poop in it.

What more can I really say? My camera can't wait for Camp Shack, and neither can I. Unfortunately, viewing the pictures of myself from Friday made me cry and it's crazy diet time. I even wrote Darren a hundred dollar check that he gets to cash if I cheat. It's been effective thus far.

I will conclude with some family photos, since this was a family weekend. Check Mike out. I used to be jealous that he tanned so nicely while I am incapable. Upon realizing the horrors of facial tan lines, I have decided pale isn't all that bad.

*Note: The formatting really appears to suck, but I don't care. I'm going to bed.