10/17 I am sick to death of playing tour guide in Adelaide

I have discovered the greatest drinking game of all time, and it revolves around MacGyver. Yes, that's right. Some stanky Irishman sent me all of season one, and after an afternoon of errand-running and city-orienting, we played. The rules go:

1) Drink once for each item MacGyver uses to make a gadget (this constitutes at least 15 drinks per episode)
2) Drink once per black character
3) Drink once each time MacGyver says his own name
4) Drink once each time anyone is kidnapped/held hostage
5) Drink once for every line that someone can predict word for word.

And the coup de grace-- any time anyone touches Richard Dean Anderson's epic mullet, you have to finish your drink.

There, go, drink, enjoy. I'm off to make a mud baby out of leftover Lion burger, tomato sauce, boxed wine, and the dregs of my pride. (4 ingredients--4 drinks!)

Drink Count: 9

P.S. Final workshop today, and the class hated Lynchpin. Apparently, I write better kitchen appliances than I do women. I must have a thing there, and even though Jane saw where I was going and praised my intent, the first half of the story does not even begin to work. So. That's cool...