The 7 of us went to dinner at a place called “The Bridge.� I had a half pound of crab legs and some steak. It was unbelievable. Cole had, surprisingly, frog legs. He said that they were ok, but not as good as some he had in the past. In the end, the dinner was awesome, but not as good as the crazy buffet.

We came left the restaurant and, after about two hours, returned to our hotel. We went to Walgreen’s to find some mixers for the various alcohols we had in our room. We ended up getting Sunny D. We decided to play drinking Risk, and Cole invented a new drink: the Ronald F. Mexico. It consists of mango Captain Morgan rum, vodka, Sunny D., and cranberry juice. It’s damned good, and it doesn’t taste like booze at all.

We began the game of Risk, and I was the early favorite. But then Cole broke a few of our non-aggression pacts and took over North America, which I controlled. Cole’s treachery struck deep, and I was unable to recover, although I destroyed Zachar (mostly our of spite). Ryan and I then forfeited to Cole, who was only a few turns from taking over the world, anyway, even though were playing mission Risk.

After the game, we decided to go down to the beach. This was at about 3:30am. When we got down to the beach, we found that there were some Russians down there with three American girls. The American girls were falling all over themselves to hook up with the Russians, from the look of it. I decided that we should be social and started talking to all of them, and, even though we had a few language problems, we hung out for a while. I even managed to inquire about t.A.T.u., and the Russian kids seemed to indicate that they liked them. Eventually, one of the American girls got topless and went into the ocean. I wasn’t about to complain. The problem, however, was that the Russians were probably douchebags, but i chalked that up to their being foreigners and gave them the benefit of the doubt. More damning for them was the fact that they wore man-thongs. No one in the civilized world, or the uncivilized world, for that matter, should be allowed to wear a man-thong. I think it's actually punishible by death in some African countries. Man-thongs are, without a doubt, the worst of the various male swimwear options. I don't even think girls like man-thongs.

After some time, the Russians (and their man-thongs) and the girls left, and we hung out by ourselves for a while. Then, we were joined by some Englishmen and two girls from Georgia. We hung out for about an hour before they, too, took their leave of us. So, we hung out on the beach and decided to watch the sun rise. We talked about important stuff for a while. The sky got lighter, but the giant ball of gas never made an appearance. We decided to come back to the room eventually, just in time to see some drama unfolding between the Russians and the American girls. Whatever, they were stupid, anyway.

Then we came into the room. I took a shower because I was covered in sand. When I came out, Cole, Ryan and Zachar were watching Walker, Texas Ranger. We watched that for a while, and now they’re all asleep. I’m starting to think that it’s time for me to turn in, too. After all, I’m kinda drunk. Still, Chuck Norris is unleashing some wicked roundhouses . . . .