I just packed my adorable German up and put him on a plane back to Deutschland. I’m ridiculously behind on my blog-ifications, but this gal is too plum wore out to even try and catch up. I plan a quiet evening of vegetables and absolutely no personal interaction with anyone. (Well, I guess Rocco is exempt in this case.) Don’t call me. Don’t email me. I’m ignoring everything until tomorrow…and then I’m just going to go play at a BBQ on Strong Island. Despite my need to get my hermit on, I had to share this photo. We took one last stroll out onto the 14th Street pier and I caught a glimpse of this sex kitten. I actually had to look twice to confirm he was, in fact, shirtless. I thought about showing him the matching t-shirt tan lines I’ve developed over the past two weeks of wandering Manhattan in search of the perfect pair of Chucks, but my abs are only slightly less terrifying than his. Ladies, try and calm yourselves.