Let me start off by saying that places south of the Mason-Dixon line are fucking humid and hot as all get out and not in that fun, sexy, pre-teen beach-party kinda way.

Breathing in Fort Lauderdale in the summer is like breathing through jell-o, it's thick and nasty and leaves a unpleasant film at the back of your throat. I would do a whole long write up of all the funness that went on over the past week, but I am lazy and in great need of a shower and a shave so I'll just enumerate a few of the highlites.

1. Justin's aunt has a gigantis sword fish hanging on the wall over her couch in the living room. This is something I'd expect everyone in Florida to have.

2. Justin named the van that we drove from Fort Lauderdale to New Jersey "Raquel Welch The Car" because both are big and white, weigh a few thousand pounds, and will let you ride them anywhere. My suggestion of "Doppler Woodruff" as the car's name was vetoed.

3. West Palm Beach is lovely and Charles the Puerto Rican is lovely as well. I don't think he should be driving a stick shift though. Sitting at a 4-way stop for two whole minutes while his car made horrible griding sounds isn't a very fun thing to do.

4. I am allergic to Savannah. I was there a day an a half when my head totally sealed itself with mucus. Sunday I took a bit too much Benedryl and was dead to the world for most of the day.

5. Home Run Video on Liberty St. really needs to carry more Jeff Stryker movies on DVD. I was all in the mood and they denied me. I WAS DENIED THE B.F.C.!!!

I dunno how much longer I'm going to be in New Jersey. To make a long, involved, and emotional story short, Pete and I decided to break up. So I'm going to go stay with some friends for a little bit and then hopefully go and sleep on my sister's couch for awhile and bother her and my brother-in-law for a bit.

Good times.