I don’t remember drinking a gallon of rum last night, but the little man trying to kick his way out of my skull tells a different story.

But, Rob’s new house is good and warmed, and debauched, and carpet-stained a little, from drink spills, and debauched some more, for good measure. And I got to chat with a friendly cabbie and a homeless guy that told me I should braid my goatee for the ladies.

I think he’s right.

I’m glad I had the presence of mind to grab one of the really big Starbucks Frappuccinos at 7-11 last night, ‘cause boy howdy do I need it now.