I'm sorry...

Not really, I am an American. Being American means never having to say you're sorry.

I was meaning to blog in the last couple days, but I was distracted by sleep and work. Such are my weekends.

Too many people try to compete at Ultimate Fighting straight off the street. These people are funny and, by the end of the night, they are bruised and bloody. I wonder if they learn anything from their experiences. For me, it is just good enough to laugh at them, I don't much care if they learn anything. I just hope they come back to try again.
Other than that, Saturday night just made me remember how expensive the bars are. Oh how I relish the free tab at Mickey's. Those Irish folks are so generous. Then again, I am sure he makes a big ol' bag o' dough on fight nights. He deserves it too.

Have I ever mention that my favorite part of Walker Texas Ranger is the theme song? Chuck Norris has the nerve to sing the damn thing. Except, he can't sing. He talks with the tune. Hilarious stuff. "'Cause that's where the Ranger's gonna be." True story.

Oh, my bike broke down on the way to school, so that is why I am not at my 8 AM class today. I hate showing up late.

Peace out.