Long weekend by the numbers

Number of cats on my bed this morning: 3 (I know, I know. It's a wonder I'm single. Who doesn't want a piece of this?)

Prior to this photo, Gus (far left) was perched on my chest, succubus style (all nose-to-nose, purring in what cat-speak is likely something akin to "Kalimah! Kalimaaahhhh! " as he pressed all of his 14 lbs down through one foot onto my sternum).

Evenings spent at Buttermilk with the usual suspects: 2
Pints of Brooklyn Brown Ale consumed: Ugh, don't remember... many?
Cosmopolitans consumed (with some chagrin...): 1 (Thanks Seth!)
Pizza eaten: Lots
Late-night fisticuffs witnessed: 1, intense
Soccer games won: 1 (woot woot!)
Goals scored in games that counted: 0. In games that did not count: 1
Severity of post-soccer pain on a ten-point scale: 4 Last weekend: 50
Failed attempts at seeing Brokeback Mountain: 1
Netflix DVDs conquered (because when they've been sitting around the apartment for weeks, it's not about watching or enjoying, it's about winning): 2.5
Instances of harassment by cats: 80 (give or take)
Hot Stove opining with Dad: 15 minutes (gosh darn it, if you're trading Manny, you'd better friggin' get Miggy)
Episodes of Lost watched (on Seth's ipod): 6
Consequent collective gratitude to Mr. Seth as a result: immeasurable
Cigarettes bummed for Seth as a result of blind gratitude: 1 (Why did I do that?)
Current temperature: balls-cold
Wind speed on walk home from Buttermilk last night: eleventy billion knots
Number of beers it would have taken to make that walk warmer: infinity
Doorknobs in apartment busted: 1
Strangers I called "You fucker!": 1

All in all, a pretty good weekend. Happy (slightly belated) MLK Jr. Day!

And finally, see how Appomattox likes Excel spreadsheets:

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