Touching the boobie gets you slapped.

Yeah, so how about spending the last hour and a half in a ticklefest in Dulin’s new car–while we’re driving down the highway?

Of course, I’m sure his mother wondered why we sat in the car for five minutes in front of his house before actually leaving.

And that car that kept driving back and forth through my parking lot must have wondered why two people were thrashing about in that car with the fogged up windows.

Dulin was even enough of a bum to make a Titanic joke by sliding his hand down the foggy window.

But it was a stalemate all around, since, while Dulin has picked up some upper-body muscle mass since I last saw him, he’s still a scrawny little boy who can barely escape my Indian-burn-producing death grip on his wrists.

But, of course, I had the advantage, with him being locked in (for a while) by the steering wheel, and with some of my torso unavailable by the rule that touching the boobie gets you slapped. He had to actually aim, while I just tried to get the general torso area without aiming too low.

Discussion ranged from bad sperm and egg jokes to pocket vibrators to “where the fuck are my keys and why the hell didn’t I think to bring a brush?”

Sometimes, it’s a good thing the parents go to bed early.

Yes, we saw the Harry Potter movie, which rocked. I thought it was pretty dark for a kids’ movie, but given that kids are getting to grow up with these movies, essentially, it works out pretty well. Assuming an age of ten to thirteen for the viewing of the first movie, the viewers are now twelve to fifteen, meaning they can handle more serious stuff. I liked it, though, and want to read the books now. I just have to acquire them…

Upon returning to Dulin’s abode, we chatted with Mrs. Dulin, watched Office Space (which I was so uncool as to have never seen before), and got our asses slaughtered by Mrs. Dulin in Monopoly. Then Dulin kept trying to tickle, and I didn’t really want to have to take him down in front of his mother (*smile*), so I suggested we head out. So began the ticklefest for the ride home.

Now, I sleep, and try not to dream of the pain and the mouth full of gauze I will apparently have after the wisdom teeth surgery. *Shudder*.