And the sky with no clouds, The heat was hot and the ground was dry

I returned from Arizona yesterday morning, expecting a reprieve from the 102 degree temperature and instead receiving a 90 degree, 90% sponge bath by the gods of Logan Airport. During the three days I was in Arizona, my friends and I spouted back and forth to each other about thirty times, "You know, I much prefer this 106 degree no humidity to Boston at 90 degrees and 70% humidity.". Honestly, though, I hate all of it. Once it gets over 68 degrees, I start to get very uncomfortable and Scott McLellan level sweat spots start to appear at interesting places throughout my torso. And I will not get into what goes on below the waste. Let's just say not good things.

I will not go into the details of the alchol consumed or not consumed, because that stuff isn't even interesting to me. Needless to say, I spent three days reconnecting with good friends that I hadn't seen in years, and it made me pine for the camraderie if not the ease of life that accompanied college. Our paths have all gone different ways; some have married, some have interesting jobs, some have lived adventure. But the real test of friendship is that no matter the circumstance or the time that you've spent away from each other that things can be like they used to be. Cracking the same jokes, making fun of each other for the same things, laughing at the same times.

Now that the sappy stuff is out of the way, here are a couple of funny things that happened:

- I had to buy a bathing suit because I forgot mine (when everyone heard that someone needed to buy a bathing suit, it was unanimous that it was me), so we went to the Foothills mall in Tucson, where I spotted this shirt:


Perfect timing after last week's whine fest on these kinds of shirts. Malls, making sluts mainstream since the late 1990's.

- There was a sound engineer convention at the resort where the wedding was held, so I got my fill of chains dangling off black jeans, moustaches, and mullets, and zero women. That's excellent. But they were good sports and even joined us in a game of water volleyball (AKA Dave embarrasses himself in front of a entirely new group of people).

- We passed this sign in Phoenix on our way to the airport:


- The last time I was on the West Coast was 1992, and a trip with your mom and grandma when you're twelve is not a prime time to scope out women, but my brief stay in Arizona completely boggled my mind; the women in Arizona are incredible. Just incredible. It certainly is difficult to talk to them when you look like Patrick Ewing in double overtime, but let's just say the typical wait staff at a Phoenix restaurant is slightly more attractive than the entire line outside of the Purple Shamrock on a Friday night. I need to move to Arizona.

- And finally, here is a Moderately Effed first. Photographs of me. The first one was at about midnight on the wedding night, about 13 beers in. That's me on the right.


And this one was taken at the ketubah signing. Predictable, I was wearing shorts and a Planned Parenthood t shirt when I was dragged to the synagogue. Dressed to the nines as usual.