Hi all, long time, no log on. Anyway... I moved in last Saturday. Since it's my first apartment on my own, I don't have a heckuva' lotta' stuff. That didn't stop three o' my pals from accompanying me on the 40 mile trek to get here however. While moving stuff inside from two cars, a van, and a truck, my buddies saw some women in the complex and decided to help me out. "Man, it sure is great that he found a place that allows homos". Bastards. After getting all of my stuff inside, which didn't consist of a whole helluva' lot, the boys wanted lunch. We decided on Bennigan's (blues busters, baby). And that, fellow TF fans, is how it started. The boys informed me that I'd be drinking alcohol. All I wanted was a dessert and some water, since I'd just scarfed down a delectable McGriddle two hours prior, but alas, I succombed to the temptation. One of the pals' o' mine decided he'd do a shot of whiskey with me. We order two shots, and the waiter brings us three. The boys conspired to pour the extra shot into my glass. At this point, I know what's goin' on and drink it anyway. I'm none too bright. Waiter comes back. "He'll have a Killian's", they say. "12 oz. or 22 oz.?" the waiter asks. Before I can interject, the waiter gets bombarded with a "22" the likes of which I had never heard before. Well, maybe there was one time when a buddy of mine, while playing Bingo, heard the "I 22" from the caller. This pal hollared, "BINGO!!!" That will always resonate with me, as the caller exclaimed, "THAT'S A BAD BINGO!!!" We were never again allowed at the Moose Lodge. Okay, back to Bennigan's (blues busters). I'm taking forever on the 22 oz. I'm getting hell from all involved. Finally, one of the guys orders me a "Hurricane" so that I can have something to look forward to when the Killian's is gone. Ass hat. I pretty much pound the Hurricane. At that point, I'm feelin' it (hey, gimme a break, I'm a mere 120 lbs.). I needed a T.V. stand, so I say, "TO MEIJER!" By the good graces of whichever deity believes in me, I was able to tell the guys how to get there. We get to Meijer, and... well first... here's a lesson for the kids: When you need a T.V. stand and don't know which model to get, go to the store drunk. It makes figuring out what you need SOOO much easier. My next hammered shopping experience'll probably be for a dresser. I pick a T.V. stand in record time. We grab some Killian's, some Labatt Blue Light, some sweet and sour mix (which I kinda' forgot about), and some Jameson's whiskey. Get back to the apartment, where I drink down another Killian's. I hate that alcohol flows like water the more you drink. I help get the bedding into my room, where I slip on the plastic mattress covering and laugh hysterically. Not my finest hour. We get the bed set up. One of the guys gets the T.V. stand together. Things are getting arranged in the apartment. At this point, I have no clue what's going on. Also, my folks are now helpin'. It's decided that I need to order pizza for the people. The phone call's a blur. I don't remember what I ordered, but somehow, I did realize that we needed some plasticware. So, me and one of the pals walked to the store, where we had the foresight to pick up cups, napkins, and plates, and then we finished the long trek to Domino's. It's a good thing they knew I called, because it was all still a blur. I told 'em my name... hoping of course, that that was the one I used... and the lady handed me two Domino's pizzas. SWEET!!! The night's lookin' up! We got back to the apartment before I knew what I'd ordered. Pepperoni, BOO YA'!!! It's at this point, that I don't remember much. I remember huggin' my folks good-bye, tellin' one of the guys to hang a picture higher, and telling them how to set up the computer table. Yeah, I was that guy. Somewhere in all of that mess, I had a whiskey sour (the gang ain't gentle), and one or two more Killian's. And when I'm already feelin' it, I drink fast. It's not too bright. I know it. I do it anyway. I played one of the guys in Madden, and was actually leading my opponent. I apparently said, "Dude, you're lettin' a drunk guy whoop your ass!" Then, bored, I got up and made one of my other buddies' play him in Halo. Finally, it was time for the gang to leave. I bid them all farewell, and was actually feelin' okay when I went to bed. At two in the mornin', all of the alcohol merged with all of the pizza, as I sat there thinkin', "This'll pass." Ten minutes later, I christened the toilet. Another lesson for the kids: Pepperoni... not as good comin' up as goin' down. In my renewed state of sobriety, I decide that I need a REALLY cold glass of water. I get up, fill the glass, and open the freezer door... ...to find all my clothes and bathroom stuff in there. Bastards. I threw it out, put the glass in, and had ice cold water in ten minutes Day 2: I ended up having to re-arrange everything I had made people do on move-in day. Last lesson for the kids: Never tell the people how to set up ANYTHING when you're three sheets. Now, after typin' this autobiographical account of a day in the life of Autobot Dave, I've gotta' fill out the apartment "checklist". I wonder if the people in the front office like Jameson's? Have fun, all!!!