Another birthday and another moustache show are in the books. Thanks to all who came out, bought me shots and were repulsed by our vulgar displays of facial machismo. There's at least one photo up on the message board, with more to come I'm sure. Clearly, Nate is the most genetically-predisposed for a successful moustache show, but special kudos go to him for wearing an ungodly green leisure suit before the show as a decoy to throw the audience off the scent of our true top-secret moustache theme for the evening: white trash.

What can I say about the evening? My trucker alter-ego (I've named him Travis) threatened the audience with physical violence and took it very personally when he perceived people yelling "Skynyrd" in an ironic, disrespectful way. We gave away prizes for best audience moustache - a hot rod t-shirt and a crock pot.

But I'll remember the almosts - things we almost did, but didn't get around to pulling. We were very close to talking Keith into playing shirtless and perhaps shoeless. We wanted it clear that were he to stroll into an establishment such as the Abbey, there would certainly be no service.

We also had a bit planned in which Nate pulls out an envelope and claims that the paternity test is in: Keith is Jason's father. I would then fly into a rage and engage Keith in a slap fight while the audience was encouraged to chant "Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!" We didn't do it because we couldn't find an envelope.

Special thanks go to my bandmates and Alena for getting me a great birthday present - the Red Sox DVD with the entire 2004 ALCS and World Series - and wrapping it in a McDonald's bag, complete with half-eaten apple pie. I'm told that Keith had a tremendous time convincing them to give him only one apple pie, even though he got two for the same price, but that is a story for another day...