Turns out my travel agent is a DOOFUS ON WHEELS and only booked me a one-way flight. Now don't get me wrong, I appreciate a one-way trip to paradise just as much as the next guy, but I'll wait and take that when I retire--at AGE 90, because I'm healthier than an infant baby on steroids and Jamie Oliver's personal diet plan.
As the fates would have it, I found this out over the phone at the very same moment some local kiddos were burying me in the sand down at Tres Palms. Apparently my wallet had dislodged from my jorts pocket and down into the sand. It had my cash, my credit card, my sandwich loyalty stamps, everything. So I was stuck down there for an additional 12 days until I could get my act together and jetty back to the homestead. You wouldn't believe it if I told you, so I wont--I'll save that story for my memoir (currently projected for January 2014).
Anyway, please enjoy these two most recent ProxyVids. Sounds like a few lucky folks had some SOLID HAPPY BIRTHDAYS, in more ways than one!