I'm baaaaaack.

I got back home today, and it felt really nice. I mean, I had a ton of fun in Florida, but after an 8 hour plane ride and a 3 hour drive home, it was just satisfying to open the door, drop my bags, and crash on the couch.

I caught up a bit on my reading, and tested my new driver. I failed at the range, and it made me sad. I couldn't hit a ball to save my life. I think I wiffed more today than all my times golfing combined. I'd like to think it was a combination of the cold (it was foggy as hell too) and the fact that I haven't touched a club in about a month.

I watched Crusoe the other day, a new series about Robinson Crusoe. He had the coolest tree house ever. I always dreamed of having one of those super awesome tree houses with like multiple rooms and bridges across them and stuff. I bet it'd make an excellent zombie-proof shelter, as well, since zombies can't climb.

Alright, apparently three paragraphs is my limit tonight. I'm exhausted.

~Nick
They're Pinky and The Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain.