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Now that somewhere around 5 of you are tuning in on a regular basis, I thought I'd give you something to read this evening. Am I a saint? Probably. Could I be even more awesome? Probably not. Do I enjoy asking myself questions and then immediately answering them? You fucking betcha!

Ok, so here's the thing...

If I actually continue to blog here on a regular basis, this will be something like my 7th blog. If you don't know the story and want to find out just drop a comment. I'll tell you, it's just probably pointless since I'm assuming those of you that read this would already know it. Needless to say it involved my gigantic penis, world class physique, and a rapist's wit.

Not to sidetrack, but Andrew Zimmern and his Bizarre Foods show is in Korea (and playing in the background) at a fish market and he asks his Korean friend if he has ever eaten sea squirt raw? The guy looks at him like he's crazy as Zimmern pulls out a knife to cut one up. Just then the old ladies running that booth jump in and start carving that bitch up for him like it's the most normal thing in the world to carve a stranger a fresh piece of raw sea squirt.

I never tire of watching these other countries (Including our new overlords, the Chinese) prepare and eat the most ridiculous things.

As things settle down here in my new Charlotte home I can't help but feel like a guy in need of a local sea squirt carver to make me feel welcome.

I've been here about one month and still don't truly feel as if I live here. It's not the comfort level in work and my surroundings, because I have that by now. It's something else. A tie to the area beyond Lady Bitchmore's family, I guess. Maybe it'll be a sporting league where I can cavort, sport-like, with other cavorting sporter types. Or possibly a local place where I may bring out my inner Norm.

I don't know. I'm sure something will do it I just don't know what it will be and when.

My hope is that it'll include beer and boobies when it does.

The ride from Michigan to North Carolina was smooth.

Well, smooth in that we didn't have any hiccups. Otherwise it was bumpy as fuck through Michigan and into parts of Ohio, forcing me to wonder if my Uhaul truck had any suspension at all. But because I'm a dainty pretty boy with exactly zero auto skillz, I was unable to do anything more than put my foot on the gas and hope for the best.

The best was 75mph.

Anything over that and a governor would kick in. Not Michigan's governor, of course, she's worthless. (Thank you, I'll be here all week) But that only mattered through half the journey as the other half was mountains and not exactly the kind of area you want to drive a 26ft truck like it's a sports car.

Both Lady Bitchmore and myself have iPhones. She would be driving the family truckster, complete with adjustable seats and auxiliary plug for musical or podcast goodness. I, on the other hand, was driving a circa 1490's truck with no adjustable seat and no way to plug my iPhone or iPod in like a FUCKING NEANDERTHAL!

So we came up with a great plan. I would take our speaker docking station into the truck with me and use the fancy car charger I have for work. It's a converter that plugs into your cigarette lighter and allows you to plug in your standard wall socket shit. I need it for work but it was going to be perfect for my moving truck. It's also one of the coolest things I've picked up from any work I've done. Other cool things work has given me over the years include Playstation 2's (9 of them. Seriously.), Odyssey White Hot putters (4 of them), TV's, DVD players, a chance to touch and get my picture taken with the Stanley Cup, a shitload (Industry term) of expensive booze for free, and multiple attractive female coworkers that may or may not have experienced my two patented lovemaking techniques. Those would be The Thumper and The Jackrabbit.

What exactly are The Thumper and The Jackrabbit? Buy me a beer and I'll show you.

If you're ugly buy me 7 American beers or 6 imports and I'll show you. If you're really ugly you'll have to ask a friend to find out for you. She'll need anywhere from 1 to 7 beers, depending on her features.

Anyhow, we ended up stopping halfway because we didn't get on the road until 5pm. Eleven hours in the truck, through the mountains, sleepy, and in the dark, just didn't seem like a smart move. We stopped at a classy Best Western just shy of West Virginia.

This was crucial.

Not only did it allow us to refresh for the last half of our drive, but because we were in Ohio and not West Virginia, our chances of getting butt-raped by bearded locals with banjos was significantly decreased.

So I couldn't hear shit in the truck, we split the drive into two days, and once we got here it turned out that our closest confidant was really a double agent and we were about to be fucked until we intercepted some important data and preemptively struck after quickly assembling a team of misfit former seal types (One black, one foreign, one funny, and one extremely capable) and when the dance battle ensued it was all over.

We had finally become residents of North Carolina.

So, we are finally settled in and I'm loving it here.  I get to be close to my sister, my nieces, my Mom (this is a double-edged sword but so far, so good), and in a place that is warmer and prettier and right next door from a yummy French bakery, from which I currently sit while my new, shinier floor is drying.  My man gets to be surrounded by my family (he is a total trooper), go to work in 95 degree heat in a suit every day, and be hundreds of miles from (most of) his friends and family.  Clearly, I have the better deal in this scenario, but I lived in the MIDWEST for over a YEAR.  I deserve it!  Besides, he already had a poker night and he no longer has to hear me bitch about the weather, the lack of decent pizza and the weather. 
Being broke due to the move has kept us from experiencing all of the things our fine new city has to offer, but that will turn around soon.  Until then, we will have to be satisfied with making delicious meals together in our new, improved larger kitchen, drinking wine from the Italian provisions store a few miles away and...wait.  Being broke is way better here.  I'm ok with it.  Next on the to-do list: make art and sell it, discover new restaurants and bars, and take pictures of our new place.  Life is rough down south.