We met up with Lil Martha, Matt Damon and Porkchop at Rodeo for a nice Mexican dinner on Saturday evening. Tobey and I arrived early, as we did not want to get swamped by the papparazzi when Lil Martha and Matt made their entrance. Luckily, Maddona was dining in Remerton and the papparazzi were following her around instead of them.

While we were waiting, we ordered drinks. I had a strawberry daiquiri and Tobey had a draft beer. Bud light if you must know. Now at Rodeo, because everything is bigger south of the border, you can order a regular drink, a grande drink, a muy grande drink or a Oh-Mis-Dios-I-Didn't-Know-Glasses-Came-That-Big drink. Tobey and I ordered regular drinks. We are so bourgeoisie that way. Matt ordered the Oh-My-God beer. 34 ounces, if you must know. I had to pee just watching him drink it. But drink it he did, twice, if you must know.

We had a nice time chatting, drinking, eatting and catching up. Porkchop, we found out, is a BIG Twilight fan. It is nice to know that Barbie isn't the only one in the family in love with those Vampire-la-quinn books. With much arm twisting we retreated to the Stewart-Damon mansion, which is located right across the street from Frank and Marie Barone from Everybody Loves Raymond fame.

As the evening progressed, something happened that was so shocking, so heinous, I dare even repeat the events of the evening. But as I have said before regarding this blog, I don't make this stuff up folks, I just report what I see, as I see it.

So Matt is relaxing in his arm chair and offers us a sherry. A. Sherry. Matt offered it. Not Lil Martha. Matt.

What you need to understand that my brother Matt Damon is a man's man. When he drinks, he drinks beer. 34 ounce beers. He works on cars, builds model airplanes, boats and cars, he wrestles alligators and loves Nascar. A man's man. Or so we thought....

I must have made a strange face because at that point Lil Martha explains that the last time they were in Jacksonville they stopped off at San Sebastian's Winery and Matt got hooked on their port wine and sherry. Matt is so hooked on sherry that they even got special sherry drinkin' glasses for him to sip his sherry in. Glasses so special that they are not stored in the kitchen with the Fred Flintstone jelly glasses he normally drinks out of, oh no my friends, these glasses are in the china cabinet.

Matt then goes on to expound on the virtues of sherry and how he pays $4 a bottle. Four Dollars. Apparently, things at the Damon-Stewart house are getting pretty slim, maybe they got slammed on Wall Street. I don't know. But the vision of my baby brother, sitting in his easy chair, drinking sherry, pinky finger extended....well you see the picture above...you understand where I am coming from.

And as if all of this wasn't bad enough: Tobey and I had some tummy issues on our trip. We ate way too much and apparently the Mexican chicken Tobey ordered didn't agree with him. Because when we picked Frodo and Buttercup up the next morning, at Buttercup's mom's house, Tobey got up from the couch and let one rip. One what? I'll let you use your imagination. If you are familiar with Clyattville, where Butter's mom lives, then you know about the paper mill. And the awful smell from said paper mill. Tobey gave that paper mill a run for its money when he got up off the couch. Talk about embarrassing! I felt so bad for him but I was laughing to hard too let him know that. Thankfully, as mentioned before, the papparazzi were still in Remerton with Madonna.

I am sure Tobey won't be too happy that I wrote about this but as I said earlier: I don't make this stuff up folks, I just report it for all my reader (sic).

~ame