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Glad to be back in sweet home Long Beach. But not gonna lie and say I'm happy about leaving Europe either. It would take volumes of encyclopedias to write about every aspect of the trip. So I won't. Maybe it will come to me over the next few days or maybe the next few years. Either way, I've got stories to tell. Perhaps that's why I had to go -- refuel the ol' noggin with new ideas. Big thanks to Taylor and Chip for letting me tag along. It was an experience I will never forget, even when I'm a lonely Alzheimer's patient shitting myself in some old folks home. I won't be able to remember my middle name, but the words "party machen" will always be at the forefront of my mind.

Jetlag's a motherfucker. I woke up this morning around 9 a.m. and didn't know where I was. Pretty strange considering I was in my bed. Oh bed, how I missed thee. All the sleeping bags and couches in the world could never take your place. I turned over, saw my sky blue wall and the cat tree and was dumbfounded for a few seconds. I'm not what anyone would call a morning person, but this lack of mental stability was a stretch even for me. But now I'm pretty sure I know where I am. I think.

Shaq traded to the Suns. Do I care? Not sure. I was pretty bummed when the Lakers got rid of him, but it's been a few years and now we're back. Yeah, he got one on us in Miami, but in the long run Bynum is where it's at. But I still digs the Big Fella. Any athlete with personality is ok by me. Good luck Shaq. I'll be pullin' for ya, except when you're playing my team. Then we're gonna run your fat ass out the building.