OK, now onto the four-night trip to Key West. I love that place. The weather is perfect, the natives are friendly, you can relax or party to your desired degree at any time from sun up till 4 a.m. Here's how it breaks down:

My Additions to the Dictionary: A neckbreaker is the hot chick at the pool that has every guy turning his head when she walks around the deck. An Elmo is a naive goofball who turns into a tomato after Day 1 in the sun.

Garden of Eden: No one should be surprised that I at least had to check out the clothing-optional bar atop The Bull and The Whistle. During the ascent, I came across signs that read, "No Photography" and "No Sex on Premises." After poking my head in at 2 p.m. Friday and seeing one woman (the bartender), three clothed men and three other men sunning their hairy testicles, there was no danger of either for me. I wouldn't return, though I did have a few drinks at The Whistle a night later and surveyed the crowd going up. Just a few couples here and there. If I saw an Alyssa Milano lookalike climbing up there, I probably would have tripped over the stairs with my pants around my ankles.

Midget Pissers: No matter whether a men's room had only a couple of urinals or a bunch, a midget pisser was omnipresent. I don't know what those guys did before laws required them. Piss in a cup and pour it in the toilet? I have no idea. All I know is that every time I took a leak, I thought of midgets. So like 40 times in four nights.

Denny's' Declaration of Hospitality: It doesn't take a whole lot to laugh hysterically in Denny's at 3 a.m., but when you see a commitment to hospitality signed by the entire staff, the comedy meter is pretty much off the charts. Some random drunk dude sweet-talked his way into adding his John Hancock. Had to have been the highlight of his trip.

The Giant Margaritas: Some dude at the Radisson's pool bar, Splash, was on his second huge margarita when we left for dinner Sunday. He'd already won $100 from his buddies for finishing the first, which, according to staffers, held between 6-12 margaritas. Monday it was reported he was suffering through a Tequila Dave-like Category 5 hangover, but was $200 richer.

Scooters: It may be a little unsettling to pass a Coach and Banana Republic in Key West, but there's still nothing more relaxing than cruising down Duval Street on a rented scooter. Here's me looking like a tool on my No. 82 black-and-white "hog." Chances of me paying my $35 parking ticket are strictly 50-50 as of press time.

The Shrimp: Got a half-pound at The Half Shell and was in heaven. My friend and I each ordered a bucket as an entree at Billie's and thought a practical joke had been played on us. The portions, as we learned only after being served, were 20 oz. each, cooked. A pound and a friggin' quarter? I ate half and almost threw up. I don't even think a tag team of George Foreman and Chet from The Great Outdoors could have polished the thing off.

Kayaking: George Bellenger of Downwind Kayak Tours took us out in a small group to explore the Florida Keys backcountry. George will be happy to know that even though we came across a couple of small sharks, I managed to return my kayak unsoiled. Barely.

Hand Dryers: I hate hand dryers. Paper towels are just faster. The one at The Green Parrot must've been jet-propelled, 'cause the impact of the blast of air on my wet hands made a loud fart-like sound. Now I don't know if you chicks are aware, but nothing cracks up a room of guys more than a loud fake fart noise. My license says I'm 31, but I'm under no contract to act like it.

Martha's: After our concierge offered to call ahead to Martha's, a steak-and-seafood restaurant near the airport, I said, "Yeah, tell her two good-looking guys are coming." I'm thinking Martha's on the phone and would have her bevy of broads waiting for us. I forgot we were in Key West. The waiter and bus boy most definitely patronize businesses with rainbow flags in the window. The food and the service was great, though.

And That Indian Chick: Not long after I bellied up to the bar at The Green Parrot on Sunday, some chick comes up and asks, "Do you want to see my boobs?" Um, sure. So she pulls them out, then refutes my claim that I'm not, as she was certain, a local navy guy. Anyway, not being a big fan of VD, I let her fall all over herself for like five minutes before being tossed out for being too drunk. And then getting dragged out a second time after trying to return.