Filler, Buster...

Hey there, 'Redheads... I'll level with you, I've got nothin'. This is just being written to fill space, so I may keep the streak alive. So, let's see how long my stream of consciousness can go 'til it runs dry. Speaking of the streak, it will be coming to an end. March 4th is going to be my last planned consecutive entry. Pending a few details to be worked out, I'll be on a plane to New Orleans for a double shot of debauchery, a buddy's bachelor party and Mardi Gras, the next day. I don't see much blogging getting done up through Fat Tuesday. Rest assured, you'll get a big fat hungover entry of all of my fuzzy memories and thought out alibis from the trip.

I'm not sure what to expect. I'm excited, but I'm also filled with dread. Sure, this crosses Mardi Gras off my bucket list, but I don't want to be puking into that bucket. I'm looking to have a good time, not a sequel to The Hangover. I'm an old 35, and most of the people down there will be hammered twenty-somethings. My heavy drinking days are behind me and I hate being caught in loud teeming mobs of drunk people, I don't care how many boobs are involved. I may try to treat the trip like a safari. New Orleans is the natural habitat of the drunk tramp. It's fitting that so many guys will attempt to track their mating habits. So, this will either be an amazing time, or my own personal hell. Many consider New Orleans to be the devil's waiting room anyway. So, we'll see. Nothing's official just yet. Like I said, I'm just trying to fill space.

Before I sign off, Happy Birthday to Thomas Edison. Somehow it seems wrong to put candles in the cake.

Have a good weekend. See you Valentine's Day.