Jiggity Jig (the) Jig (Is Up)

Last night I picked up Bryan from the airport. The boat he sailed on came in second place; he is now deliciously tan and relaxed, although his knobby knees resemble two bubbling slices of pepperoni from crawling around the grippy bow of the boat all week long. Here is a pic Zoey snapped of us once we got home: What can I say? I like my men veiny.

Okay, fine. That's not really us. Truth in advertising: Bryan is just a cafe con leche away from personifying this crispified version of Todd Wilkins on steroids, although he doesn't look quite as dirty/oily, nor has he worn a tank top since 1989, praise be to the god of male armpit hair everywhere. And while the fraulein on the left bears a striking resemblance to yours truly (if you squint your eyes after liberally dousing them with nail polish remover, vinegar and a dash of salt), maybe, just maybe my abs are a tad doughier than hers, my hair not quite so yellow, my nails not quite so, uh, picky. Although I would totally rock that Frederick's of Daytona bikini number if ever given the chance.

So, for those keeping score at home, here is a brief synopsis of what I did for the past ten days:

• Consumed 4 entire bags of Cadbury mini eggs
• Drank 2 quarts of chocolate milk
• Watched 17 total hours of slutty drunk bitch reality tv
• Painted my coffee table what was supposed to be a brick red but in the light of day tomorrow Bryan will discover is truly a carmine pink

What Bryan did for the past ten days:

• Lived off of fresh Caribbean fish
• Drank cold beer
• Sailed aggressively all day
• Slept in a $15k/week mansion complete with infinity pool on an island covered in sand the consistency (and probably the taste) of powdered sugar
• Partied with the Wailers at night. Yes, of Bob Marley and the...

I think we can agree that I sure showed him for going away.