Turkey and Lurkey

Ate Mexican hotdogs last night. You know the kind, where you put a frank diagonally on a piece of bread, fold and viola! I've had the strangest craving for hotdogs lately (no Freudian allusions, please), and while shopping for my frank of choice (Hebrew Kosher or Oscar Meyer), I was struck with two newfound revelations:
1. Hotdogs pack a whole lotta fat grams into that innocuous looking single serving
2. It somehow feels less disturbing to purchase turkey dogs instead of normal beef/pork dogs, as if it is better to eat turkey ass than pig ass.

Mmmmmm, turkey ass.....agggghhhhhhhh

A friend and I were discussing myspace and weve come to the conclusion that we really can't call ourselves myspacers because we don't really use it in the traditional sense of networking and meeting people. We feel were more myspace lurkers because we purposely set this up so that those who may be curious to find us on myspace would not be able to do so. Why sign up, you ask? Consensus is that we only log on so that we can search/check out other peoples myspace pages, thus effectively being nosy and finding out inane details about people from our past, yet not having to share that information ourselves.

This weekend should be relatively uneventful, which is a good thing. I was supposed to go to a pool party in Austin, but I found out its actually in Pflugerville, which is a solid hour and half from my house. I just can't see myself burning up all that gas just to sip a margarita that I have to bring myself (its BYOB), then cart my tipsy behind back home. I feel bad about backing out because I typically make it a point to do that which I have agreed to do, but this time it just isnt practical. Aww geez, I sound like my mother! "[going to that party] just isn't practical." Damn, I'm freakin OLD.